Kryptonite
by The-Flame-Faerie
Summary: Jeff always dreamed of having a daughter who wasn't a walking fire hazard. Instead, he had with five sons who were, while Penelope had a baby girl. 16 years and a boarding school later, Tara's back, and now the boys get to deal with the new Little Lady..
1. Prologue

_**a/n**__ Hey guys. I know I haven't updated in a while, but something just made me want to go back and re-write some of the earlier chapters of Kryptonite. I think it's called "Writer's Block"._

_Anyway, there shouldn't be too many differences, maybe a scene added here and there, but other than that, they'll essentially be the same. Hopefully you'll notice a difference, however!_

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

_...16 years ago..._

_April 29__th__, 2048_

A blonde teenager stumbled out of her doctor's office, tears rolling down her cheeks.

It's not possible. It couldn't be.

She staggered out the door, across the road and into the green park opposite the surgery, before sinking onto a bench, and curling her legs up to her chest.

There she sat, hugging her knees and sobbing.

The girl didn't know how long she'd sat there, but eventually the tears stopped, and, though she still rocked back and forth, she was numb.

It wasn't possible. It was all a sick joke.

"Are you alright there, sweetheart?" Bloodshot azure eyes darted up to the owner of the distinctly American voice, a southern drawl. She was a motherly looking woman, her auburn hair half tied up behind a kind face. Her cornflower blue eyes seemed to glitter with concern.

The teenager shook her head, resting her chin on her knees.

The woman sat next to her on the bench.

"Is there anythin' I can do to help?"

"I don't even know you," the voice which came from the girl was strangled and cracked. The woman smiled.

"My name's Lucille. My husband's doin' work with the space program here, so my sons and I are temporarily stayin' in London with him. What's your name, dear?"

"Penelope," the girl cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Well, there you go. Now you know me. So what's wrong, darlin'?" Penelope looked down at her lap.

"I just came from the doctor," Lucille sucked in a breath, but said nothing.

"I'm pregnant," Penelope's voice was so small, Lucille had to strain to hear it.

"Oh, Honey," Lucille rubbed a soothing circle over Penelope's back, "I know that seems like the scariest thing in the world, but it's not so bad in the end," Penelope looked over at her, incredulous. Lucille gave her a warm smile and pointed to a group of five on the play equipment near them.

"Those five are mine. That's Scott, my eldest, pushin' my youngest, Alan, on the swings. John's the next one down after Scott, he's playin' with the abacus; Virgil and Gordon are on the see-saw, Virgil's the middle, and Gordon's the second youngest,"

"Five sons, Lucille?" the auburn haired woman laughed.

"Call me Lucy. And it's really six. Sometimes my husband, Jeff, is just like another one of them. Though I'm hopin' child number six," she patted her stomach lovingly, "will be that little girl I've been holdin' out for,"

"You're pregnant?" the woman beamed.

"Due August," Lucy stood, "Come on, Penny. Why don't you help me with my boys? It'll get your mind off it, and you can see what takin' care of kids is like,"

Despite everything, Penelope smiled, and took the outstretched hand.

* * *

"Lucy!" the elder of the two women span around at the sound of her name, and a warm grin split her features.

"Jeff!" the man had dark brown hair and enveloped his wife in an embrace as soon as he could.

"Ready to get going?" Lucy glanced over at Penelope, who stood shakily from fixing Alan's bark-covered hair.

"How are you getting' home, darlin'?"

"The underground, probably. My parents are out of town," the auburn haired woman clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"You said you lived near where we're stayin', Jeff, we could give her a ride home, couldn't we? Or better yet, join us for dinner, Penny," at her husband's confused look, Lucy let out a burst of laughter, "Silly me! Jeff, this is Penelope. She's been helpin' me with the boys this afternoon. Penny, this is my husband, Jeff Tracy,"

* * *

_August 10__th__, 2048_

Penelope sat in her room, her legs curled under her as she read over her holiday homework. Thorntree Academy wasn't exactly pleased to take back the pregnant teen, but with the kind donation from the aristocratic Amelia and William, they overlooked Penelope's "unfortunate condition", and were willing to allow her to complete her schooling. At this time, however, she was in her home in London.

By her desk, the phone broke out into shrill ringing, and she jumped, immediately pressing the accept button.

The tired and tear-stained face of Jeff Tracy greeted her.

"Jeff!" Penelope was surprised, "What's wrong?"

"They had to induce labour," his voice was soft, "Lucy's in a bad way, Penny. I need someone to take care of the boys for me,"

"Where are you?"

"London Central,"

"I'll be there soon," she rung off and rang for Parker.

* * *

Penelope sat in the waiting room with the five Tracy boys, Scott half asleep on the sofa, Virgil passed out on his shoulder, Gordon's asleep in his lap, and John, reading a book, his hands shaking.

Alan's head was in Penelope's own lap, and he slept soundly.

There was no word from Jeff, nor the doctors.

Penelope stared at the floor of the room, steadily counting the tiles across the threshold, and back again.

_One. Two. Three._

Doctors bustled around outside, nurses helping patients to rooms, others wandering the halls, laughing.

_Four. Five. Six._

The ticking of the clock seemed to echo around Penelope's ears. She prayed silently for her friend. Lucy had helped her come to terms with her own pregnancy. Lucy had helped her realise that she should keep the child.

It was Lucy who came with Penelope to her check-ups, _Lucy_ who had been a saint. She was going to be the godmother to Penelope's child.

Penelope begged whatever deity that could hear her to spare her friend.

_Seven. Eight. Nine._

Penelope's heart sank the moment Jeff appeared in the doorway.

"We lost the baby," his voice cracked, "And Lucy, soon after,"

A tear rolled down Penelope's cheek.

_Ten_.

* * *

_August 17__th__, 2048_

Lucy's funeral was a sad and solemn affair, Penelope sitting with the Tracy family, doing her best to help them.

But her heart broke each time she saw the sad faces of the boys.

And Jeff.

Good God, poor Jeff.

He stood alone, looking down at his wife's grave, his face pained. Penelope rested a hand on his shoulder, wishing she could comfort him in some way.

They stood in silence.

"You know," Jeff finally managed broken words, "They told me that my baby was a little girl. Lucy always said if we had a girl, she'd name her Belle. Her little southern Belle, she said," He turned to Penelope, eyes full of tears, "But what about _my_ southern belle?"

Penelope felt her own eyes begin to water.

Again, they stood in silence, before Jeff looked away.

"Thankyou, Penny."

"What for?"

"Taking care of the boys. Lucy always said you'd make a good mother," He sighed, "The boys and I will be heading stateside soon, but I'd like to hear from you," he dragged a hand over his eyes, "Keep in touch. Lucy would have wanted that,"

Penelope smiled softly.

"I promise I'll call."

* * *

_December 5__th__, 2048_

"Okay, Miss. Creighton-Ward, we're going to need you to push again. Come on, you can do it! Just a nice hard push to get the head ou—_good_. And again?"

Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, if she could even be considered a lady, clutched the hand of her butler and good friend, Aloysius "Nosey" Parker in the birthing room of London Central Hospital.

On the other side, Penelope's mother, the esteemed Lady Amelia Creighton-Ward, brushed the hair gently from her young daughter's face, contorted in pain and rapidly flushing with blood from the strain.

"Another hard push, Miss. Creighton-Ward, we're almost there," Penelope took a gasping breath and pushed as hard as she could, squeezing Parker's hand with all her might.

There was a small cry, and Penelope collapsed into her pillows, the midwife smiling as the nurses cleaned up her new child. The umbilical cord was cut, the baby wiped clean, and the bundle of pink blankets was handed over to Parker, who gave the child a small smile.

"It's a girl, M'lady," He gently laid the baby in her mother's arms, and Penelope tentatively stroked a finger down the child's soft pink cheek.

"She's beautiful," azure eyes darted over to her own mother, and Amelia smiled softly.

"You made the right decision, darling, by keeping her. I'll deal with your father, you just think of an appropriate name for my granddaughter,"

There were a few moments of silence, before Penelope spoke again.

"Tara," she stroked another finger over her daughter's forehead, "My beautiful tower of strength. Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward," Amelia was touched. She pressed a kiss to her own daughter's forehead, before standing.

"Parker, keep an eye on Penelope and Tara. I'll go and deal with William,"

As soon as her mother left the room, Penelope turned to Parker.

"Parker, I need to call Jeff," He shook his head.

"I'll do it, M'lady. You're in no state," His tone left no room for argument, so Penelope merely nodded.

Parker squeezed Penelope's shoulder.

"He'll be touched you named her like you did, M'lady,"

"I hope so, Parker..."

* * *

_...10 years later..._

_27__th __August, 2059_

"Tara, darling, come on! We'd best get a move along if we're going to make it in time to see Jeff and the boys!" Penelope called up the stairs. There was the sound of sandals slapping on wood before a girl with bouncing platinum curls appeared.

"Coming Mum!" she skipped down the stairs, dressed in a light pink halterneck dress. She had stick-on jewel earrings on her earlobes, and was wearing lipgloss. Penelope tried not to laugh at the girl's obvious attempts to dress up for this visit.

She darted past her mother, down the marble stairs at the front of the manor, and jumped into the car, buckling her seat belt.

Penelope slid in after her daughter and Parker closed the door, tipping his hat at Lil, the cook, who was watching the scene from the kitchen window. Lil rolled her eyes and continued cleaning the pans from breakfast.

Parker drove off, listening to Tara's bubbling excitement.

"Do you think Gordon will be there? And Virgil?" Penelope laughed.

"Yes Tara. And Scott, John and Alan too,"

"Alan's gonna be there?" if it was possible, the grin on Tara's face widened.

"He's on school break, Tara. And I know just how much mischief you two are going to get up to..." the blonde girl just giggled.

When the three reached the island, Jeff greeted them warmly.

"We just got back from a mission," he spoke, embracing Penelope and Tara, "So Scott and Virgil are just tidying up," he turned, "Gordon, go and hurry your brothers along,"

Gordon started mumbling about having "Middle child syndrome" but still obeyed his father, shuffling over to the Thunderbird 1 silo.

Behind him, the glass door slid open, and a boy with a messy blonde mop attached to a boy appeared.

"Dad, can I talk to you..." Alan Tracy trailed off, spying Lady Penelope and Tara Belle.

"Hey Tari!" she blushed as he grinned. Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong, Alan?" the boy blinked, before remembering.

"Can I talk to you about something?"

Jeff put an arm on his youngest's shoulders, and the two walked off, Alan muttering something to his father. Jeff didn't look pleased.

Meanwhile, Tara looked up at her mother, who smiled down at her. The blonde girl brushed some hair from in front of her face, and her azure eyes darted around eagerly. They fixed on a tanned girl walking up the stairs from the beach.

"Tin-tin!" Tara cried and the girl laughed as she looked up.

"Tara!" She hugged the girl, and Tara frowned.

"You're wet," she said, brushing the front of her dress, "And sandy," Tin-tin laughed again.

"Do our ears deceive us?" the unmistakeable voice of Scott called from the doorway of the silos.

"Or is our dearest little Ra-ra here?" Tara glowered at Virgil who ruffled her hair.

"Don't call me that!"

"What," Virgil arched an eyebrow, "Ra-ra?"

Tara's look got stormier. Gordon grinned.

"As unpopular with the 10 year olds as he is with the ladies, I give you, my brother – Virgil Tracy!"

Virgil threw him a dirty look, and he turned, walking upstairs.

"Not like you do any better," Tara smirked, and Scott chuckled.

"Cram it Scott," Gordon chucked him a filthy look, and then looked at Tara.

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh," the girl responded flippantly, "A few things,"

"Such as?" Penelope turned her daughter away from the eldest Tracy boy and shook her head. Scott laughed.

"Whatever you say, Lady P,"

* * *

Tara was wandering around the island, when she heard a faint noise in the trees of the jungle.

She crept in, and almost immediately spied Alan, boxing a duffle bag that was swinging precariously from a branch.

"Hiya Alan," Alan turned, and gave the girl a weak grin.

"Hey Tari,"

"Whatcha doing?" He shrugged. She fixed him with a look. The boy sighed.

"This... This is a long story,"

"We've got time," she sat down on a log and crossed her legs, leaning forward on her knees, "Tell me," Alan raked his fingers through his hair.

"It's my dad..."

"Is there something wrong with Uncle Jeff?"

"No!" Alan climbed up on a branch stump, leaning against the tree, and lifting his bag off the overhanging branch.

"Then what's wrong Alan?"

"He won't let me join International rescue..." Alan came over, dropping the bag, and sitting next to Tara.

She shrugged.

"His loss then," Alan laughed, looking over at the girl.

"Thanks Tari," She beamed.

A few moments of silence passed until Tara spoke again.

"Can we go annoy Gordon now? He won't stop calling me Ra-ra,"

Alan laughed.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Water, and flour..."

Alan looked at her puzzled.

"I'll explain on the way... let's go!"

Tara took Alan's hand, and dragged him up towards the house.

* * *

"_Alan Shephard Tracy_!" Gordon roared, storming downstairs, little white cakes flaking off him with each step.

Alan and Tara exchanged looks across the table, the two trying to keep straight faces.

"What?" Alan bit his lip, looking up as Gordon stood in front of him, fuming.

"I am going to get you for this, little brother, mark my words…" Gordon turned, storming up the stairs, seething more with each step.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Alan and Tara burst out laughing.

"That was almost too easy..." Alan smiled, shaking his head in disbelief, "Good one Tari,"

Tara blushed.

"Thanks Alan,"

"Got any other ones to pull?"

* * *

Jeff and Penelope sat outside by the pool, watching as their children played.

"Penny," Jeff sighed, "Am I doing the right thing?" Penelope turned and looked at him incredulously.

"Jeff, if you're talking about International Rescue, of course you are. You're saving lives,"

"Yes, but I put my boys in danger. And today when Alan asked why he wasn't allowed to go out on missions, it got me thinking... what would Lucy have said?" Penelope took Jeff's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Jeff, Lucy would have been proud of you. You know what she always used to say about there being too much death in the world. She would be," Penelope sighed, "She _is_ so proud of you and what you've done. Not to mention, how the boys have turned out. You've raised a fine family, Jeff Tracy, and you're doing a fine thing," He gave her a weak smile.

"You know, Lucy's the reason I started International Rescue?"

Penelope had thought as much, but didn't say anything.

"I thought if I could save people, then maybe my benevolence would..." he raked a hand through his greying hair, "... It would be honouring Lucy's memory. She always wanted to help people, and now we are. For her,"

"She'd be proud of you, Jeff. Never doubt that,"

* * *

_September 1__st__, 2059_

"Goodbye, Sweetheart," Penelope embraced her daughter, "Have fun at Thorntree!" With a gentle push, Penelope sent Tara towards Parker and Fab 1.

"Hurry, darling, or you'll be late for sign in," Tara's eyes widened and glistened.

"Do I _have_ to go to boarding school?"

"Sweetie," Penelope's voice was soft and sympathetic, "It'll be better for you there than if you were here with me, at least for now. I know it's tough, but Thorntree's a good school, and I want you to have the best opportunities, okay?"

Tara sniffled.

"I'll miss you, Mum," Penelope squeezed her daughter.

"I know, darling. I'll miss you too, Princess," The blonde girl clambered into the car and Penelope shut the door behind her.

As Parker passed her, Penelope grabbed his arm.

"Take care of her for me, Parker," she begged, "Lord, I hope she doesn't cry,"

Parker nodded.

"I will, M'lady, don't you worry,"

Parker started up the engine, and Tara pressed her hand against the car window, giving her mother one last begging look.

Fab 1 drove off, and Penelope watched it until it was out of sight.

"I'm sorry Tara..." With a heavy sigh, Penelope turned, and walked inside.

Thorntree Academy would give Tara the best opportunities to grow into the young lady she was supposed to be. It would mould her and educate her, guiding her to fulfil her full potential.

It is six years from now that Tara will return from the Academy. Six long years for her to grow and develop into her own person, away from the spotlight and hysteria of the aristocracy.

Six years from now, Tara will be back.

And that is where our story begins.

* * *

_**a/n**__ As I'm sure you all realised, the whole situation with Lucille Tracy is a recent addition, but I thought that, in lieu of the fact that the story is, essentially, an AU, I needed to add a bit more back story to flesh it all out._

_So, I hope that clarified any questions people might have had about Penelope and Jeff meeting, Tara's full name, the timeline of the story, Penelope's reactions to her pregnancy and how she dealt with it, and why Tara was sent to Thorntree._

_Yeah. That's the first of the re-done chapters. _

_The Flame Faerie_

_P.S. Robert Pattinson **rocks** my bright red band socks._


	2. Rebel, Rebel

_**a/n**__ Reworked April 23__rd__, 2008_

_Warning: Tara's language is now un-edited, and is a little heavier than before._

* * *

**Chapter 1 – **Rebel, Rebel

* * *

_April, 2065_

Penelope was seated at her dressing table when Parker entered carrying her mail. With a soft word, he lay them by her hairbrush.

The blonde woman plucked the final stray hair from her left eyebrow, before resting her tweezers in their rightful spot in her chest of drawers, and she turned to the pile.

Newly shaped brows furrowed as she scanned the front of the letter on the top of the pile.

_Thorntree Academy_

A small sigh escaped her lips. Despite Penelope's best intentions, it seemed that the only thing Thorntree had fostered in Tara was a destructive and rebellious nature.

There was no doubt in her mind that this letter would contain nothing good.

Debating with herself whether or not she needed a cup of tea before opening it, Penelope weighted the envelope in her hand.

She winced.

It was heavier than usual.

_Tara's mid course report_.

At times like this, Penelope wished she condoned swearing, because nothing which sprung to mind was good or appropriate for polite company.

Bracing herself, she ran her pewter letter opener under the lip of the envelope and a slight jerk of her wrist tore it cleanly through the paper.

_Dear Lady Creighton-Ward,_

_According to school policy, which I am sure you are quite familiar with by now, it is the duty of the school to inform you of your daughter's miscreant behaviour as of late. Tara was caught out of her dormitory after the curfew imposed for seniors. As is customary, she has been punished with a groundskeeping detention, however we leave further punishment to your discretion_

_Sincerely,_

_Headmistress Emmaline Thickett_

_Post Script – Attached, you will find Tara's results for her mid course assessments. For someone of her behaviour, they are surprisingly high._

Penelope placed the letter on her dressing table, her lips tight.

What exactly did _Headmistress Thickett_ mean by "someone of Tara's behaviour"?

Azure eyes darted back to the page, and scanned the results.

_Mentor's comment: Tara's shown some promising results. If she were only to apply herself, she could excel in her academics._

_**Classics--B  
****Geography--C****  
Home Economics--C****  
Mathematics--A  
****Literature--A****  
Philosophy--A  
Physical Education--A****  
Science--B  
Theory of Knowledge-B**_

Penelope was pleasantly surprised. She stood, straightening her pink tweed skirt, before ringing her bell.

When Parker entered her chamber with a bow, she glanced up.

"Parker, go and fetch the car. We're going to visit Jeff and the boys,"

"Any special reason, m'lady?"

"Tara, Parker," Penelope folded up the letter, sliding it back into its envelope, "I'm going to bring her home for her spring break," When Parker furrowed his brow, the aristocrat added, "And we need to visit Jeff, because she'll be finishing up at Thorntree Academy next year, and I'd like her to help me work with Jeff and International Rescue. She's bright, Parker, she's just lazy and, it seems, insolent. I'm hoping the boys will help give her discipline, not to mention will allow her to flourish and foster her natural talents,"

Parker bowed.

"As you wish, M'lady,"

* * *

"Father," Jeff glanced up as his eldest entered his office, "Father, there's a vehicle approaching the island,"

"And, Scott?"

"It's Fab 1," a smile broke out on Jeff's face.

"Penny," He rose and immediately made for the front of the house.

By the time he reached them, Penelope had already exited the car, and beamed at the grey haired man.

"Jeff," she kissed him on both cheeks, clasping his hands, "How are you?"

* * *

Jeff paced the length of his office as he listened to Penelope's speech.

"Here," Penelope handed over the envelope containing Tara's results, "They're not brilliant, but it proves she's no dunce, Jeff. I think she could work well with International Rescue. But I wouldn't dream of bringing her in so completely without your approval,"

There was silence in the office as Jeff scanned the paper.

"These aren't brilliant, you're right," Penelope steeled herself for more argument, "But we can work with it. But I need to get this straight right now, Penny. Tara will be working as an operative, not as a direct body in the missions, understand?" Penelope nodded.

"That's all I wanted, Jeff,"

"Tara's too precious to both of us for me to even dream of risking her. My boys know the risks, and, though I hate putting them in that line of fire, I need them to help me. I refuse to place Tara in that danger," he sighed, "But if you are truly serious about this Penny, then I'm with you,"

"Excellent. Thank you, Jeff. I'll be bringing her home from school for this mid-year break,"

"If you'd like, Penny, Tara can stay here with us. It will give her the best introduction to how things work around International Rescue,"

Penelope looked sceptical.

"Are you sure you're ready for that, Jeff?" he chuckled.

"Penny, I raised five sons. I think I can handle one teenage girl. Tara's what, 15 now?"

"16," Jeff's eyebrows rose and lips tightened in surprise.

"Has it really been that long?"

Penelope nodded, smiling.

"They grow up so fast," Jeff laughed

* * *

"C'mon, Parker! One more game!" Alan tossed his Wii remote from hand to hand eagerly. Parker laughed, shaking his head.

"I can't, Master Tracy. I must be on my way with M'lady to collect Miss. Tara from school,"

Alan dropped his nunchuck.

"Tara?"

"Yes, Master Tracy, Miss. Tara. We're bringin' 'er 'ome for 'er mid-year break. 'pparently 'her Ladyship wants Miss. Tara to begin workin' with hInternational Rescue,"

Alan's eyes widened.

"Are you serious?"

"Quite serious, Master Tracy, and now I must go and fetch 'er,"

Alan put down his Wii remote, his mind working quickly.

"Parker," he started cautiously, "Do you think Lady P would mind if I picked Tara up instead? Tara and I were so close once, I wouldn't mind catching up with her a bit first,"

Parker considered this.

"There shouldn't be a problem, Master Tracy. I'm sure 'er ladyship wouldn't mind, and you and your brothers are cleared by Miss. Tara's school to collect her,"

A grin broke out on Alan's face.

"Excellent, Parker, thanks," Alan grabbed his keys and immediately made for his elder brother, tapping Virgil on the shoulder.

"Hey Virg, could you drop my car off in 'bird 2?" Virgil's brow furrowed.

"Why," he asked cautiously. The blond rolled his eyes.

"I'm picking Tara up from school," Virgil span around at this.

"Ra-ra? Why?"

"She's coming here for Spring Break, Virg. Lady P wants her to work with us," the middle Tracy son considered this.

"Alright," he finally decided, standing and striding over to the entrance to the Thunderbird 2 silo. Alan made his way to the lift and hopped in, reaching the ship slightly after Virgil.

What seemed like mere moments later, Alan was waving goodbye to his brother, driving off to Thorntree Academy.

To Tara.

This could prove to be _very_ interesting.

* * *

Alan pushed open the glass double doors, looking around in awe at the reception area.

It was a meld of old and new architecture, and it was beautiful.

His cornflower blue eyes snagged on a painting, and he turned to examine it clos—

"Can I help you?" Alan jumped as the sharp voice of the school secretary addressed him, cutting through the silence like a knife.

"I'm," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "I'm here to pick up Tara Creighton-Ward...?"

"Are you a parent or guardian?" the boy almost snorted at the question, but held himself back.

"Family friend,"

"Name?"

"Tracy. Alan Tracy," the sound of shuffling papers filled the office, before the secretary spoke again, this time not quite as sharp in timbre.

"You're clear. Ms. James!" the mousy haired girl near her snapped to attention.

"Yes, Miss. Smithe?"

"Go and fetch Miss. Creighton Ward for Mr. Tracy. You should find her by the Headmistress' stables," there was a small smile on the secretary, Miss. Smithe's lips, "Make sure she's packed as well,"

Jennifer nodded tightly.

As soon as the girl had left, Alan turned back to the painting he was examining earlier, secretly wondering what Tara would look like... be like.

It had, after all, been six long years since their last meeting.

In the background, he absentmindedly noted that Miss. Smithe was placing a call to inform someone of Tara's impending release. From the sounds of things, that someone was not pleased.

* * *

"_Oh for __fucks__ sake_," Tara swore, kicking the stable door in anger.

She'd only mucked out half of the horse sheds, before discovering that the headmistress' prize thoroughbred had left her a surprise which she'd have to go back and clean.

"I _will_ send you to the glue factory and make it look like an accident," the girl growled at the long faced animal. Spitfire just tossed her mane, almost daring the blonde to try.

At this point, she probably would have.

That is, if Jenny hadn't come sprinting down from the school.

"Tars!" the blonde leaned against her shovel, wiping the sweat off her brow.

"What's up, Jen?"

"Your ride just got here!" Tara arched a shaped brow.

"Someone's been sniffing the liquid paper again, haven't they Jen?" the mousy haired girl glared.

"Fuck off Tars. But seriously, you're going home for mid-year break,"

"Hmkay, _why_?"

Jenny shrugged.

"Didn't say. But man, the guy who's here is totally hot, Tars," Tara's features morphed in hyperbolic horror.

"Parker?" she gagged, "Jen that's _disgustingly illegal_."

"Is that what you call that fine thing in the office? Parker? Sounds kinky," Tara's face distorted further.

"Jennifer Elise James, you are disgusting. Aloysius Parker is old enough to be your _grandfather_. He's _practically_ mine. So forgive me if I _hit_ you for being a complete sicko,"

Jenny looked confused.

"Grandfathe—Tara, the guy who's here to pick you up is young. Said his name was Tracy, or something. Wasn't listening," she waved her hand flippantly. Tara smirked.

"Too busy checking out his arse, huh?"

"Like you wouldn't have," Jenny grinned, "Anyway, I threw most of your stuff into your bag before coming down, so yeah. If you want to shower first quickly, I left you some clothes on your bed too,"

"So, basically, I'm free from this detention?" the blonde suddenly looked like a kid in a candy store. She stripped off the large gloves and kicked off the gumboots, before sprinting up to the main building of the school.

* * *

Tara did indeed have a quick shower, washing the stench of the stables off, before hurriedly dressing in the jeans, white babydoll "**Team Edward**" tee and black leather jacket left for her. She shoved her feet into black converses, brushed mascara over her eyelashes and lip balm over her full lips, before ruffling her hair and surveying herself in the mirror.

Two swift touches of her eyeliner pencil later, she crammed her spare stuff into her bag, swung it over her shoulder and hurried down the stairs to the common room.

"See you guys after break," she flashed Jenny, Charlotte, Amber and Ophelia warm grins, hugging them each in turn.

"Have fun at home, Tars," Charlotte Silver smirked and Tara pulled a face.

"Please 'Lotte. If I know my mother, I'll be back here in 2 days,"

Amber furrowed her brow.

"She'll kick you out? She'd kick out the great and magnificent Tara Creighton-Ward?" the blonde laughed.

"No, my dearest Amber Lam. We don't get on. I'll leave, most likely,"

Ophelia Firth nodded, her crazy black curls bouncing.

"Well, sooner you go, sooner you're back. Have fun at home anyway, Tars," Tara laughed, adjusting her bag strap, before striding out and down to the office.

Now, there was a bigger mystery, aside from _why_ she was going home, that she needed to solve.

_Who in the hell was __taking__ her home?_

* * *

Alan was examining a portrait of the first headmistress at Thorntree when he heard a bag thump on the ground of the office.

"Okay, I'll bite," a voice, lilted by the distinct R.P. accent of the Creighton-Ward family, spoke, "Who the hell are you?"

The blond turned and his eyes widened. The girl opposite him, hand on her cocked out hip, sleeves bunched up at her elbow, white babydoll tee pulled across a slightly-above-average bust, blonde hair falling in messy sex-hair waves, eyebrow arched on fine cynical features...

There was no way this was Tara. Not his Tari, anyway.

Yet, there was a lot of her mother in her. Just enough that he knew it had to be.

The girl's blonde hair fell to her shoulders, some half falling over her azure eyes. Her nose was small, her lips heart shaped, like her mother's. Her skin was clear, and the same peachy complexion as Lady P.

She was tall enough, about a head shorter than Alan, though. And her figure... she had her mother's figure. Her jeans hugged her hips, which flared tauntingly below a tapered waist.

He didn't believe it, but there was no way this girl could _not_ be Tara Creighton Ward.

"You've grown up," Alan finally found her voice. Tara's eyebrow rose higher.

"Bound to happen. Now, care to tell me who the hell you are, or am I going to have to call security?"

Alan couldn't help but crack a smile.

"I didn't think I'd changed that much, Tari," the blonde's lips pursed in confusion.

The next words she spoke were carefully enunciated.

"Alan?" she spoke slowly, almost unsure. His smile widened.

"What?" he asked, holding out his arms, "No hug?"

Tara laughed, walking into his embrace and hugging him back.

"C'mon. Virgil's waiting," Alan said, breaking off from the blonde. She nodded, swinging her bag over her right shoulder, and looking over her left.

"Have a good break, Miss. Smithe!"

"You too Tara," the woman laughed and shook her head as the girl raced out after her ride.

* * *

Tara leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of the sunlight on the open road.

Alan glanced over at her, eyebrows raised.

"You alright there, Tari?" Azure peeped out between closed lids.

"Yeah," she spoke softly, "I'm just... _really_ grateful to be out of there, even if it _is_ only for mid-year break,"

Alan smiled, but said nothing in response.

* * *

"Ra-ra!" cerulean glinted dangerously as Tara narrowed her eyes.

"Virgil, don't be a bastard. If you call me that _one-more-fucking-time_, I swear I will not hesitate to what few balls you have _right-fucking-off_,"

Neither Tracy brother knew how to take that, so they settled with staring in openmouthed horror.

Tara glanced from one to the other, eyebrow cocked.

"What?"

"He... but... We…" Alan stuttered, "_You __swore__!"_

"Very astute, Einstein. Any other statements of the obvious you'd like to make before we get going? How about "The sky is blue"? or "I have two feet!"?"

There were a few moments of silence before Virgil spoke again.

"Well," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "You've changed," Tara shrugged.

"Bound to happen. Now, come on boys, let's get this hunk of junk moving,"

The middle Tracy brother spun around, indignant.

"Did you just call _Thunderbird 2_ a "hunk of junk"?"

"Wow. Someone's become hard of hearing in his old age," Tara's words were biting, "Yes I did, grandpa. It needs a wash, and from the looks of things, a wax, polish and service too," the blonde strode up the ramp into the ship before either boy could retort

Virgil's eyes narrowed.

"God," he muttered, "She's turned into a _bitch_,"

Alan sighed.

"I'm sure she has her reasons, Virg,"

As Alan trekked up the ramp into the pod, he couldn't help but think one thing:

Tara _had_ changed.

And she certainly wasn't the little girl he remembered. Not anymore.

* * *

The moment Tracy Island came into view, Tara let out a low sigh.

It had been too long since she'd last been here.

Thunderbird 2 pulled into its silo, the rock-face creeping behind them to seal the entrance. Virgil and Alan clambered out, the latter turning to see if Tara needed any help. She smirked in response, and dropped from the 'bird, landing in a crouch.

She stood, straightening herself out and brushing her hair away from her eyes with a finger.

Neither boy commented.

"Lady P'll be pleased to see you," Virgil tried to keep his tone light, but he was still bristling from her earlier insults.

Tara shrugged.

"I think we both know that's total bullshit, but whatever helps you sleep at night, I guess,"

"Tara!" her eyes darted to the youngest brother, who gave her a disapproving glance. She arched an eyebrow in response.

The three entered the dining room, and there was immediately an explosion from the penultimate Tracy.

"RA-RA!" The girl's fists clenched and a feral growl tore from her curled lips.

"_Don't. call. me. that."_ Her voice was dangerously low and quiet, her tone making the air crackle with friction.

Scott, as a precaution, of course, immediately locked the drawer to the cutlery. Alan shot his older brother a warning glance.

In the tense silence which resulted, Penelope's heels could be clearly heard on the wooden floors.

"Tara!" the flashing azure eyes immediately dulled as she plastered a false smile on her features.

"Mother!" she hugged Penelope, tossing Alan a begging glance.

Before the aristocrat could speak, Alan intervened.

"How about I show Tara where she'll be staying, Lady P? Give her a chance to relax a bit before we start?"

"Yes," Penelope broke off from her daughter, eyeing the girl, "Yes, that sounds like a fine idea, Alan. And it'll let you get changed out of those clothes, Tara," the teen stiffened.

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Pardon?"

"My clothes," Tara demanded, "What's wrong with them?" Penelope was taken aback.

Once again, the room was caught in a fricative silence.

After a few moments of careful thinking, Penelope spoke.

"Nothing," she paused, once more considering her words, "I just assumed you might wish to change from your journey," Tara snorted and turned aside, hefting her bag over her shoulder.

"Where am I staying?" Wordlessly, Alan showed her up the stairs and to the guest bedroom.

The room was fairly bland and Spartan, with minimal furniture, decoration or colour. The walls were off-white, the floors covered in a cream carpet. The bed was made up with cream sheets and a beige doona.

Really, its only redeeming feature was the large window, facing north, and capturing a view of the pool area, parts of the beach, and the seemingly endless sea.

Tara dumped her bag by the door and walked straight towards the window.

She pressed a hand to the glass, and frowned as memories assaulted her mind.

- - - - - -

_The ten year old blonde girl wandered through the house, determined to find some new aspect to the Tracy home. She peered into each room with innocent curiosity, before finding the plain room with the large window._

_Checking no-one was around, Tara tiptoed to the window and looked out._

_Alan and Tin-tin were seated by the pool, talking. Alan laughed. The girl desperately wished she could read lips to know exactly what they were talking about._

_She squinted, trying to discern something of their discussion._

_Sighing, she leaned against the windowsill, pressing her forehead to the glass._

_It was then she noticed the intertwined hands._

_Tara was confused._

_Her Alan wouldn't be like that with Tin-tin, would he?_

_She frowned, just as Tin-tin grimaced, what Tara assumed was, disgust at something._

_Again, Alan laughed, but this time he leaned forward and pressed his lips against the dark-haired girl's wrinkled nose._

_Tara couldn't place exactly why it was that she felt so betrayed, but she knew that something in her heart hurt that day._

_She didn't speak to Alan or Tin-tin again for the rest of her stay at the island._

_- - - - - -_

Alan studied the silent blonde with interest.

Despite the tough act she put on downstairs with her brother, he could see that she wasn't really as hostile as she seemed.

In fact, that false façade seemed to have melted away as soon as she looked out the window.

Her face was passive, her eyes almost...

...sad?

_No_, Alan shook his head, _Couldn't be that._

"Tari?" he asked tentatively, "Are you alright?"

Azure eyes snapped over to the boy, and Tara furiously rubbed at her eyes.

"Me? Yeah. I'm fine,"

"Want me to leave you alone to get changed or something...?"

"Please," Tara cleared her throat, "If you wouldn't mind..." Alan nodded, flashing her a small smile.

"Welcome back, Tari," she gave him a weak grin in response.

"Thanks, Alan," the blond shut the door behind him, and as soon as she was alone, the girl sank to the floor, hugging her legs to her chest.

'_Funny,'_ she thought, '_I never thought I'd actually __not__ want to be anywhere near Tracy island back then..._'

She pressed her forehead to her knees and sighed.


	3. Nightmares By The Sea

_**a/n**__ Re-worked June 15__th__, 2008_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 2** – Nightmares by the Sea

* * *

When Alan returned downstairs, he found Lady Penelope had sunken into a seat, sipping a strong cup of tea.

"I should have expected the hostility, Jeff. It's my own fault, after all," Jeff fixed her with a skeptical look.

"How could it be your fault, Penny?" the blonde woman sighed, setting her cup upon its saucer and placing it gently upon the table.

"I haven't done the right thing by her, I know that. I just felt, at the time, that I was giving her something better than the alternative," Cerulean eyes fixed on Jeff's confused expression.

"Perhaps I should clarify?" the Tracy boys nodded.

Penelope let out a long, slow breath.

"When it came time for me to choose Tara's schooling, I elected to send her to Thorntree Academy, because I believed that it would give her the opportunity to have a fuller education, and allow for her to reach her full potential. After all, it was once my school, and I knew what the Thorntree environment was like. I'd also hoped that, as my daughter, she'd be cared for there more than anywhere else--"

"Why?" Virgil interrupted, "Aside from the fact you're... well, you, Lady P. I'd think that she'd get the same treatment everywhere,"

Penelope glanced down at her pink-enclosed feet.

"It's well documented that elite schools, like Thorntree, are more favourable to the "old girls" progeny. I'd hoped that as a fifth generation Thorntree student, Tara's talents would be well fostered,"

"So what went wrong?"

"I'll get to that in a moment, Gordon," she picked up her teacup and took a sip, "But first I need to clarify why I sent her as a boarder. I believed that if Tara grew up away from the chaos of the British aristocracy, that she wouldn't have the stigma of being my illegitimate child following her around. I was so afraid that if she went to a more central school in London, she would be picked on by the other students. I hoped growing up away from that would give her a support network, and would ensure she could deal with it when she did return,"

Again, Penelope sighed.

"But, as you can see, my plan went horribly wrong. I think I can narrow down "why" to one person: Headmistress Emmaline Thickett. Emmaline Thickett was an English teacher, back when I attended Thorntree. She was one of the few members of staff who was violently opposed to my return after I fell pregnant, and went out of her way to be cruel to me until my graduation. I had hoped that she would not be petty, but it seemed she transferred her grudge from me to Tara, and has been making her school life miserable since.

"By the time I discovered what was going on, it was too late, and Tara resented me for sending her there,"

"But then why didn't you pull her out?" Scott asked, leaning forward in his seat, "If you knew it was so bad, you could have pulled her out,"

"It would have been worse if I had, Scott. By that time, Tara had made some real friends. She would have never forgiven me if I took her away from that. She's nothing if not intensely loyal. I learned that much. Instead, I elected just to let her hate me. I did the wrong thing by her, that I will freely admit. I know she believes I just sent her away so that she wouldn't be a black spot on my record. Nothing could be further from the truth, but I can't explain to her why I did what I did. She's sixteen years old, and I know that there were few I listened to at sixteen,"

Penelope set her cup on the coffee table, her hands shaking.

"Excuse me, boys. I need to just take a moment to collect myself,"

She strode from the room.

The silence in Penelope's wake was almost deafening. After a few moments, Jeff and Parker followed the blonde, just to make sure she was alright.

Once they had left, the boys mulled over what they had learned.

"So," Virgil spoke slowly, "I guess that explains some things about Tara's attitude..." Gordon nodded.

"_Some_ things. It still doesn't explain why she's such a bitch, though. I mean, Lady P isn't, and she was raised at the school too,"

"Yeah, but Lady P wasn't illegitimate. And that would matter to some of them,"

"So? Tara was raised by Lady P a bit too. And she was never like this before,"

"What did you expect, Gordon?" Scott leaned back in his seat. Gordon shrugged.

"I dunno. I guess I was expecting a younger version of Lady P, to be honest," Alan snorted.

"Okay, but you realise that you can't expect Tara to have turn out exactly like her mother,"

"No," came a cold voice from the stairs, "You can't,"

Four heads snapped to one livid looking Creighton-Ward.

"Tara!" Gordon leaped to his feet, "We...ahh..."

"Yes, I heard," Scott winced.

"How much?"

"Every word," she snapped, "I'm _sorry_ I'm such a disappointment to you all because I didn't turn out exactly like my _wonderful_ mother. Trust me, I've lived with _that_ stigma all-my-fucking-life. If the world wants someone just like the illustrious Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, maybe they should have just cloned her instead of getting her pregnant. Or maybe she should have just had a damn _abortion_ so you wouldn't be stuck with me," her jaw clenched tightly and she looked away, "I'd hoped you wouldn't be like _them_, but I guess Josh was right. All you rich bastards are the same,"

She turned on heel and stormed back upstairs, slamming the door behind her.

All four boys winced.

That is, until Virgil processed Tara's parting words.

"Hang on," he spoke, "Who's Josh?"

* * *

Tara spent the rest of the afternoon sitting by the window on a bedside table, her knees hugged to her chest as she looked out over the island.

No-one bothered to come upstairs to check on her. Not that she wanted them to, but she was almost surprised no-one came up to scold her for slamming the door, or swearing or something equally ridiculous.

She glanced over to her bag, still packed from her arrival, and she sighed.

Uncurling herself from the table, she leapt down, plucking her phone from the bag with nimble fingers. She dialled a water taxi, gave them her location, and ordered the fastest they could send.

Hopefully, by the time they noticed, she'd be gone.

Tara slid the phone back into her bag and positioned the bag over her shoulders so the strap was across her chest. Then she opened the window and peered out. A few meters down, there was a ledge, joined to the ground by a long drainpipe.

She set her jaw and jumped.

Swinging to the ground, the girl peered around the corner to check her coast was clear, before sprinting down the stairs to the jetty.

She sat on a tree stump and waited in silence, watching the setting sun stain the sea a bloody orange.

They'd be furious, she knew, that she'd ordered the taxi, but at that moment, she didn't care.

All she wanted was out. This whole visit, her mother's whole idea was nothing but a nightmare.

* * *

When the alarm went off to alert them that there was an unknown vehicle approaching the island, Jeff frowned.

"Scott, you'd better head down to the jetty to see if it's landing,"

"FAB, father," Scott stood, "But first, I think there's something you'd better do," Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"And that would be what, Scott?"

In almost perfect unison, the boys announced: "Operation cover-up!"

Jeff laughed. It was amazing how, even though they were all above twenty, his sons still managed to act like ten year olds.

None-the-less, he pressed the button to hide anything which bore an International Rescue logo from view.

* * *

Scott sprinted down the stairs to the jetty, just in time to spy a blonde girl boarding what he identified almost immediately as a water taxi.

"Tara?" she span around and her eyes widened.

"Go! Go!" the driver gave her a confused glance, which gave Scott just enough time to cross the boardwalk and grab the blonde girl's arm.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, Tara Belle?" he hauled her and her bag out from the boat and shoved money at the driver, ordering him to leave.

Immediately, Tara's cold mask was back in place.

"Language there, Scott Tracy. What would your father think?"

"What would _your mother_ think when I tell her I caught you trying to run away?" Tara snorted, yanking her arm from his grip as she turned to watch the taxi speed away.

"She wouldn't care, _Scott_. None of you would. Your family fucking _hates_ me. It's not like any of you would miss me in the slightest,"

Scott's hard look softened.

"Tara," he sighed, raking his fingers through his hair, "Tara, it's not that we hate you, it's that we don't _know_ you anymore. We haven't seen you in so long that we've just got a lot of adjusting to do,"

"Yeah? So adjust with me _out_ of here," she raised her fingers to her lips to let out a shrill whistle to call the driver back, but Scott grabbed her hands in his and pulled them down sharply. The girl's gaze whipped around to fix an icy glare on the eldest Tracy.

"What the fuck, Scott?"

"Tara, I can't let you leave. Look, maybe if you come inside, we can all talk about this and sort some things through, okay?"

"I'm _done_ talking, Scott. You all made it quite clear what you think of me, okay? So tough shit and let me _leave_,"

Scott held his grip on her wrists with one hand and hauled her bag over his shoulder with the other.

"Tough, Tara. Come on," he led her up the stairs into the family room, the girl struggling the whole way.

Penelope looked sick the moment Scott forced her daughter through the door.

"Tara here was trying to leave," the eldest Tracy son spoke before any of the congregated could. Tara glared.

"Why, Tari?" her azure eyes were stormy.

"Why was I trying to leave? Simple. Because you all don't want me here, I've realised that. And you know what? I don't want to be here either. So I'm leaving, and there's nothing you can do to stop me," she turned to find Scott's arm blocking the doorway. Tara's face was mangled in fury.

"Move your arm," she growled, "unless you want me to _break_ it,"

"Not until you answer me this, Tara. If we were to let you go, where would you go?"

"To London," she responded, eyes still flashing daggers, "To Josh,"

Alan's brows knitted together in worry. He opened his mouth, but Penelope got there first.

"Josh, Tara? Who's Josh?" The teen turned defiantly.

"Josh is my _boyfriend_, mother," Penelope looked horrified.

"B...Boyf...friend?" Tara held her chin up high.

"Yes, mother. _Boyfriend,"_

Several things happened at once. Penelope staggered to a chair and sank into it, her eyes wide in shock. Jeff immediately moved to her side, so that he might check that the normally poised aristocrat was alright.

The Tracy boys also moved to the blonde woman with the intention of ensuring her stability.

In this ensuing chaos, Tara slid from the room, unnoticed by all but one.

* * *

Tara sprinted down the stairs, bag thumping against her hip and back.

If she could just get another taxi, she could get away from here. Hopefully her mother's reaction would keep them all occupied for long enough so that she could make her escape.

She dropped her gear heavily, immediately dropping to her knees and rummaging through, withdrawing her phone with nimble fingers. The girl flipped the cover, prepared to dial—

"So, what then?" a voice cut through the darkness, "You run to this... _boyfriend_ of yours, run away from your problems, what then? Do you plan on running like a timid rabbit for the rest of your life?"

The girl span around, eyes narrowed.

"I thought _you_ of all people were on my side," she spat, "Guess I was wrong then, huh?"

"I _am_ on your side," the owner of the voice sighed, "Damn it, Tari, why are you doing this? You don't need to run,"

"I'm no—"

"Tara Belle, we both know you _are_," Alan raked his fingers through his hair, "Please, Tari. Don't run. Stay, at least for the night. Let me," he paused, rethinking, "Let _us_ get to know you again,"

Her hard mask seemed to crumble and her face fell.

"Alan, I don't know whether I can..."

"Try," he stepped closer, holding out a hand, "Please, Tara. Try,"

She bit her lip and looked away. Her gaze seemed to linger on something in the darkness, before she nodded slightly.

"Okay," Alan wriggled the fingers of his hand and she laughed a little, taking it with hers.

He pulled her into a hug.

"C'mon, Tari. Sleep on it, and we'll talk in the morning, yeah?"

He felt, rather than saw, the girl nod.

Slinging her bag over his shoulder and draping an arm over hers, the two walked back up to the house in silence.

The moment they got there, all eyes were on them. Alan nudged Tara to the stairs and she took her bag, disappearing from sight.

"Leave her be for tonight," Alan spoke before the others could manage, "We've reached a pax, and I'm not willing to try that again," he glanced around the room, "Now I'm going to bed, and I suggest you all do the same,"

Alan trudged up the same stairs the blonde teen had moments before, deliberately retracing the steps she would have taken to pass the guest room. He heard the light switch click off, and something fell heavily onto the bed with a muffled thump.

'_Good_,' he thought, '_At least she's going to sleep on it_,'

Alan closed the door to his own room, kicking off his jeans and shirt as he went, pulling on another baggy t-shirt, before flicking off the lights, sliding into his own bed, and drifting into a deep sleep.

* * *

After Alan went to bed, the family stared at the place he had been.

"Okay," Gordon finally piped up, "Who was that and what the heck did he do with Alan?" There were a few weak titters from the family, but attention was far from Gordon; it was all on Penelope.

"Boyfriend," the woman muttered, evidently sickened at the way the word rolled over her tongue, "Oh Lord, _boyfriend_,"

"Penny, I know no parent likes to hear their child is dating, but why the horror?" Cerulean eyes fixed Jeff with a sharp look.

"Why the horror? Jeff, I sent Tara to Thorntree to keep her from making the same stupid mistakes I did at her age – falling for the wrong boy and falling pregnant. I thought that, if nothing else, Emmaline Thickett would keep Tara from that. Apparently not," she rose, pacing the room, "Oh heavens, what if they're sleeping together?" Penelope turned a distinct shade of green.

Funnily enough, so did the other occupants of the room.

"I need to—" Scott stepped in the woman's way.

"Lady P, I think Alan's right. Tara needs rest. Your questions can wait until the morning. I think we've all had enough fights for one evening. Besides, Tara, it seems, will be there in the morning..."

* * *

Tara switched off the light to her temporary room, before throwing her bag on the bed and rummaging for a hair tie. She pulled her blonde mane back into a sloppy high ponytail, before zipping up her bag once more and slinging it over her shoulder.

Yeah, right. Like she was staying for the lecture.

The girl clicked the lock on her door and strode over to her window, once more checking that her coast was clear.

The moment her feet landed on solid ground, she again peered around for any signs of life. Finding none, she sprinted under the cover of darkness to the boatshed.

This time, she wasn't taking _any_ chances.

Tara threw her bag into a rowboat, pushing it out to the shallows around Tracy Island. She hopped inside, grabbing the oars and slicing them cleanly through the water.

She had a long night ahead of her, and now was just the start.

* * *

"Boys, Tara! Time for breakfast!" Jeff hollered from the foot of the stairs. Almost immediately, he received a response of a stampede of feet along the hall and down the staircase.

Alan was the first to reach the table, diving into his chair and ravenously attacking the food on his plate. Seconds later, his brothers joined him.

They were halfway through their breakfast when they realised there was still one empty chair.

"Hey," Gordon piped up, his mouth full of pancake, "Where's Tara?"

"No idea," Alan responded, before gulping down half a glass of orange juice. Jeff rolled his eyes skyward.

"Boys, how many times have I told you—"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," the two youngest recited, "We know, Dad," Alan skulled the last of his juice, stuffing half a piece of buttered toast in his mouth as he stood.

"I'll go check on her," He sprinted upstairs, still chewing his breakfast. By the time he reached Tara's door, he swallowed heavily and knocked.

"Tari? You up yet?"

There was no response. Alan knocked again, louder.

"Tari? Breakfast!"

Nothing.

He tried the door, but immediately stopped after realising it was locked.

Furrowing his brow, the youngest trudged back downstairs, peering around the wall to the kitchen table where his brothers, father and now Lady Penelope and Parker sat, eating their breakfast.

"She's not answering,"

"She's probably still asleep, Al. She's 16, after all," Virgil spoke, not looking up from his newspaper. Scott nodded.

"And we all remember what you and Gordon were like at 16. We'd be lucky if we got you up before dinner,"

Gordon thumped his elder brother with one hand, still eating with the other.

Alan slid back into his seat and helped himself to more food.

"Yeah," he nodded, cutting into his breakfast sausage, "You're probably right,"

* * *

When the afternoon rolled around and there was still no sound from Tara's room, the boys gave up their last patience and congregated outside the door.

Gordon pressed his ear to the wood, frowning.

"Nothing," he looked up at his youngest brother, "We'll need to break down the door,"

"Gordon..." Virgil started, but the youngest silenced him with a sharp look.

"We've got no choice, Virg. We need to get into that room,"

"I _understand_ that, Alan, but there has to be a better way than smashing the door down,"

"There _is_ no other way, Virgil," the middle brother cocked his eyebrow silently.

He excused himself while the others sized up the door and its weak points.

"Okay. Charge it on three?" Scott nodded at the other two. Alan and Gordon signalled an affirmative.

"One," the three took up their positions.

"Two," Alan bent his legs slightly.

"Three!" the boys charged at the door at the same moment it was flung open from the inside.

Scott, Alan and Gordon came tumbling through, stumbling over themselves to collapse in a stack on the floor.

Virgil clutched his sides, tears rolling down his cheeks as he howled with laughter.

"Thanks for the sympathy, Virg," Gordon snapped, hauling himself from the top of the pile, stretching out the sore muscles in his arms, "How'd you get in, anyway?"

The darker haired middle Tracy son flicked the tears of mirth from his eyes.

"The window was wide open. I checked before trying to break the door down," he smirked, "I told you there was a better way in,"

"Thanks for helping us up, gloater," Alan used Tara's bed as leverage to bring himself off the floor. Virgil would have responded, had Scott not intervened.

"Has anyone seen Tara?" the four boys scanned the room and immediately came up with the obvious answer.

Her bed was made, her drawers empty, and the room was devoid of any character. Alan let out a low oath which drew his eldest brother's eyebrows together in disapproval.

"She must have left after we all went to bed," he kicked the bed, "_Damnit, __why__?_! She promised me she'd sleep on it!"

"Obviously she lied, bro,"

"Oh, _nice_ powers of deduction there, Gordon,"

"Why thank you, Virgil! I did think so!"

"I was being sarcastic,"

"I'm well aware,"

"You--!_"_

"Boys!" Scott's face grew stormy, "This situation could be potentially very serious. We need to alert Father and Lady P immediately," Gordon snapped to attention.

"Aye, aye Cap'n!"

* * *

Tara groaned, hauling her oars in so she could float lazily for a moment. Her hands were wrapped in fabric torn from her overshirt in an effort to save them from the blisters erupting over the smooth skin.

It had been hours since she'd started rowing, and she still had hours until she reached land again.

She knew she had money in her wallet, and her mother's credit card, so escape wouldn't be an issue once she reached the mainland. Then she could get to London. To Josh.

Tara sighed, hauling herself back up, and grasping the oars in her battered hands. The sky may be dark now, but soon dawn would be breaking and they'd realise she was missing. She needed to keep going if she wanted a good enough head start.

* * *

"...her bed wasn't slept in, so we can probably assume she left sometime last night, meaning she'd have a good enough head start on us that it would be difficult to catch up,"

Lady Penelope cradled her head in her hands.

"Tara," she moaned softly, "Oh _why_?"

The brothers exchanged glances.

* * *

The blonde daughter of Penelope Creighton Ward arrived at a dingy-looking apartment block in London, and she approached the front door, pressing the button for Apartment 2.

"What?" A voice snapped over the intercom. Tara shifted her bag from one shoulder to the other and smiled.

"Nice to hear your voice too, Josh,"

"Tara!" the immediate change in tone made her grin widen, "Come on up!" he buzzed her in and she nudged open the door, taking the stairs two at a time to her boyfriend's landing, where he stood, waiting for her.

"Hey gorgeous!" he hugged her, planting his lips on hers. She smiled into it.

"Hey yourself, handsome," she winked, sliding into his apartment and dumping her bag near the door. Josh shut it behind her.

"How come you're here?"

"I..." she hesitated, "I went home these holidays, and let's just say that things crashed and burned from there. Actually, I was hoping I could crash here for a bit,"

"Sure, baby. Whatever you need," She wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing his stubble-roughened cheek.

"You're the best,"

* * *

Tara lay on Josh's couch, curled into a ball and fast asleep. The flat was empty. She was completely alone.

A slamming door and a loud curse announced the end to this. Tara sleepily opened her eyes.

"Tara!" Josh roared, turning the corner into his dining room, "Tara, where are you?"

"In here!" she responded mid-yawn.

"Tara, honey, I need to borrow some money,"

"Okay, sure. My wallet's just over there. How much do you need?"

"Around £1500. You can afford that, right?" Tara nodded slowly.

"I _think_ so. I might not have that much in my account, though,"

"That's fine. You've still got a trust fund, Tara," Tara frowned.

"Josh, I'm not allowed to touch my trust fund. And I wouldn't anyway. I need that money for college," almost immediately, his face darkened.

"I can't believe you're being so selfish, Tara. I'm letting you stay here for free and you won't even help me out a little by lending me some cash? I thought you were better than all those snooty rich kids, Tara. I thought you loved me,"

The blonde's stomach sank with guilt.

"I _do_ love you, Josh," she sighed, "Okay, I'll go and get the money," he brightened.

"Excellent! I'll just wait for you to get back then, shall I?" he kissed her, "Love you, Tara!"

Tara smiled softly and grabbed her wallet.

When Josh returned the second time, toting a small bag of white crystals, he was positively beaming.

"C'mon, Tara! Let's have some fun!" he sat next to her on the sofa and withdrew a small glass pipe, dumping some of the contents of the bag inside. He then brought it to his mouth and took a lighter to the glass bulb.

Tara watched him, confused.

"Josh, what is that? Is it some concentrated kind of tobacco or something?" He snorted.

"Yeah, Tara. It's real concentrated stuff. C'mon, try it. Live a little. I know you smoke, so don't try to give me that bullshit – have some,"

Almost apprehensive, she took the pipe between her lips and let him light it. She sucked in, and almost immediately felt ill. Her head span, her blood raced and her stomach turned at the sensations of what she thought was concentrated tobacco. She pushed it away.

"No more," she groaned, "Oh God, no more,"

He shrugged.

"If you insist. More for me," he brought the pipe back to his mouth and lit the bulb while Tara sprinted to the bathroom and heaved.

* * *

"... and you're _absolutely_ sure there's been no sign of her?" Scott asked, glancing at the frowning Alan.

"_I'm sorry, Mr. Tracy. There's been no sign of Miss. Creighton-Ward at all since your brother retrieved her from school grounds,"_

Scott sighed, raking his fingers through his hair.

"Oh. Thank you for your time,"

"_I only wish I could have been more help. We'll call you when she returns to school,"_ Scott ended the call and turned to face his family.

"She's not there, and her friends don't know where her boyfriend lives,"

"You're—" a shrill beeping interrupted Virgil's last words. The boys sighed.

"Sorry guys, but we've got a building on fire in London. It's pretty serious – we need to get in there right away,"

Gordon frowned.

"If it's a building on fire, you don't need me. I'll stick here, in case we hear from Tara's school,"

Scott nodded.

"Good idea, Gordo. Virg, Alan, you're with me," they strode into Jeff's office.

* * *

It was the middle of the afternoon, and Tara watched the tops of the flames lick at the nearby office block with apprehension. If they didn't get this fire under control soon...

"Hey Tara!" Josh shoved his door open, smacking it against the wall, "Tara, you've got to come on out! It's the _Thunderbirds!_" Tara's eyes widened. She shook her head furiously.

"No, it's okay. I'm fine to watch from here,"

"Come on out, Tara. It's the _Thunderbirds_, Tara. You never get to see them!"

"No, seriously. I'm fine. Feel safer watching here. You go. Have fun," rolling his eyes at the blonde's strange behaviour, Josh left his apartment and joined the other tenants racing to watch these huge ships land.

Inside, Tara watched, her stomach turning.

'_I did not __row__ back to shore, only to be found __now__, when I'm finally free,'_

"_Please clear the area! We need a place to land!"_

_

* * *

  
_"Please clear the area! We need a place to land!" Scott called into the microphone, frustrated. Slowly, onlookers complied and he touched down Thunderbird 1, before opening the cockpit window and surveying the area.

"I need a place for my equipment, preferably nearby. Is there any place I can safely set up?"

Tara's blood ran cold as she heard Scott's question and the almost immediate reply.

"_You can use my apartment. It's on the lower level of that building over there."_

"_Thanks," _

Scott hailed Virgil, filling him in on the situation, before he lowered the ramp into Thunderbird 1. The vicinity was already being cleared by the police, and Scott began unloading the materials, taking them over to the volunteer's apartment block.

He took the four stairs between the ground floor and his flat quickly, swinging open his door with a shout.

"Hey Tar! _Tara!_ Guess what!"

Scott furrowed his brow as he saw the empty flat. Apparently, this Josh fellow wasn't expecting it, because he pursed his lips in annoyance.

"I could've sworn she was in here..." he grumbled, "It's not like her to nick off without telling me,"

"Who?" Scott set the boxes on this man's table, "Were you expecting someone else?"

"Well, yeah. She's been staying here since she bolted from her family. My girlfriend, Tara. Would've been stoked to meet you,"

Scott arched an eyebrow and turned to leave, but something caught his gaze.

There, resting against a chair beside his equipment was a doll blazer, pink tweed and emblazoned on the top pocket:

_T. B. A. C-W_.

"No!" he muttered, "It couldn't be!"

A chill danced through the open window and the curtains fluttered in the cold breeze.

* * *


	4. Apocalypse Please

_**a/n**__ Reworked June 15__th__, 2008_

_

* * *

  
_**Chapter 3** – Apocalypse Please

* * *

  
Tara stopped, gasping for breath, around the corner from the rescue scene.

She'd put entirely _too much effort_ into her escape from Tracy Island to be found and dragged back now.

Overhead, the roar of jet engines announced the arrival of Thunderbird 2, and the blonde immediately winced.

_Not now. _

Azure eyes darted around her immediate area, settling on a climbable oak. It would have to do.

She scrambled up into the lower branches and hauled herself onto a stable bough and waited.

Hugging her legs to her chest, she watched the entire rescue – from the first trundling moments of the firefly to the final cheers and hollering as the Tracy boys controlled the fire and extinguished it, along with the danger it possessed.

She rested her chin on her knees as she waited for them to leave.

By the time it was safe for her to depart, Tara was numb from the waist down. She sighed.

It wasn't safe at Josh's anymore, of that she was certain.

It looked like it was time to return to school.

* * *

  
Later on that evening, after the boys had all retired to bed, exhausted from their rescue work earlier that day, Tracy Island was enveloped in silence.

Scott drifted into a light sleep, the tropical breeze dancing over his back, cooling him as it wafted through his window. There were crickets chirping softly, somewhere in the distance, and he could vaguely hear the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the shore.

He was seconds away from utter oblivion when the shrill ring of the phone snapped that serenity and jolted him awake.

Annoyed and exhausted, Scott stumbled out of bed to answer the call – knowing full well that if he didn't, the phone would be left to ring by his brothers, who would feign "sleep".

"_Hello?_" he growled sleepily as his eyes adjusted to the kitchen light.

"_Hello, Mr. Tracy? I'm sorry, did I wake you?"_

"No, no," Scott yawned, "What can I do for you?"

"_It's Rosemary Smithe, from Thorntree Academy. I promised you to inform you if Tara Creighton-Ward returned?"_

"Oh?"

"_I thought you might like to know that Tara returned to the Academy about fifteen minutes ago. She's just finished signing in and has returned to her dormitory. Would you like to speak with her?"_

Scott considered this momentarily.

"No," he finally responded, "No, we'd best save that for another time. Let her rest for now, I'm sure her mother will want to speak with her shortly,"

"_If you're sure, Mr. Tracy,"_ there was a pause, "_Visiting hours at the school are from 1 p.m. to 6:30 p.m., if you're interested in joining us tomorrow,"_

Scott couldn't help but laugh.

"Thanks, Ms. Smithe. I'm sure her mother will be very pleased to hear that,"

* * *

  
Tara wandered through the halls of Thorntree with a frown gracing her delicate features.

Really, what a _fabulous_ mid-year break this was turning out to be.

She stopped by the statue of Venus and her frown deepened as she examined the effigy.

Someone had defaced it, drawing a moustache and facial hair on the alabaster marble.

_Amateurs._ Not to mention, entirely ridiculous.

It was just as she raised a hand to clear it off that the Headmistress waddled out from her office and glared.

"Aha! Caught in the act, Miss. Creighton-Ward!"

"What?! But I—"

"Save your excuses for someone who cares to hear them, Miss. Creighton-Ward. Detention this afternoon. You'll be clearing the horse's stables. If you choose to make a mess of school property, then perhaps you can learn from cleaning up mess _on_ school property. Now, you are dismissed, Miss. Creighton-Ward"

Tara glowered.

"This is entirely—" Thickett held up her hands.

"Did I not inform you that this was not open for discussion? Now, hurry along before I decide to make it _two_ afternoons of detention,"

Tara's glower deepened.

* * *

  
Jeff picked up the pitcher of orange juice and filled his glass.

Around him, his sons were stuffing their faces with various breakfast platters. He frowned slightly.

"Hey Dad," Gordon swallowed his mouthful of bacon, "pass the juice?"

Watching his second youngest drain the pitcher suddenly made him glad he'd filled his own glass while he still could.

"Pass the coffee," Scott yawned. Jeff handed over the pot, his brow furrowed.

"You're still awfully tired, Scott. Didn't sleep well?"

"I got woken up. Tara's school rang to tell us she was back,"

There was silence at the table.

"Are we going to see her…?" Alan ventured tentatively. Jeff seemed to consider this for a few moments.

"Yes," he finally decided, "Tara should know that, if she were to want it, our house is always open to her,"

Scott swallowed his last mouthful.

"Would you like me to place a call to Lady Penelope, Father?" Jeff nodded.

"Tell Penny we're happy to offer her a lift, should she need it..."

* * *

  
As dictated by Hitl—_Headmistress_ Thickett that morning, Tara found herself clearing out the horses stables when Jenny sprinted down to tell her of her visitors.

Oh, and that "the hot one" was back, and had brought his "super hot brothers" with him.

Of course, the blonde kindly informed her best friend that her visitors should be _ever-so-kindly_ informed that the young Lady Creighton-Ward didn't wish to see them, and thus they should "sod-the-hell-off".

When this message was passed on, the elder Lady Creighton-Ward informed young Jennifer that she should pass on that Tara Belle _should_ wish to see her visitors, if she wished for her allowance to continue coming.

Yet again, Jennifer James returned to the crowd of visitors in the conference room with the message "_You say that like it's an actual threat, mother. Besides, I'm indisposed, and the headmistress would be __ever so disappointed__ in me if I were to skip out on this detention_"

Almost snarling with annoyance at both her daughter's disrespect after she had run off, with fingers almost itching to wrap themselves around her daughter's throat and knock some sense into her, Penelope asked if Jenny could _show_ them to Tara's location.

With a heavy sigh, the girl said she could, and led them out the door.

Tara was paused momentarily to wipe the sweat off her brow, jeans riding low on her hips, baggy black work tee tied off just under her bust to help her cool down from the heavy hauling. She leaned against the stable door and closed her eyes, careful to breathe through her mouth.

To her right, she heard the sound of footsteps and she snorted.

"What threat did she send you with this time, Jenny? Am I to," Tara cleared her throat, before imitating her mother's clipped, aristocratic tones, "_Come back to the school immediately, or I'll be bent over her knee and spanked?_"

"Right now, _Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward_, I'm definitely considering it," azure eyes snapped open and the teen's gaze swivelled to her mother's icy cerulean glare.

Oh yes, she was _so_ in for it now.

* * *

  
"Tara, we were _worried sick_! You just ran off and didn't even leave us a note!" the blonde teenager wanted to roll her eyes as her mother continued to rant and rave, "_Anything_ could have happened to you, Tara Belle! Do you not understand that? Your boat could have capsized and you could have _died_! Did you even think about that before you ran off?"

"Does it matter, mother? I'm _fine_. I didn't die, I didn't give away any secret, I'm not maimed or anything else you can think of. So are we done here? Because if all I'm in for is another twenty minutes straight of you ranting about how I'm a disappointment as a child, I _really_ don't need that," she straightened up, "So how about you all go and get back into your little ships and cars and fly the hell off and _leave me alone_!"

"Tara!" Penelope reeled, "Don't you dare speak to me like that! I am your _mother!_" the girl snorted.

"And some mother you've been. Tell me, do half of your wealthy friends even know that you _have_ a daughter?"

There was silence in the stables. The Tracy's couldn't believe what Tara had said, whilst Lady Creighton-Ward looked as though she'd been slapped.

"Tara..." the voice which had been so sharp had suddenly failed. Penelope swallowed hard and tried again.

"Tara, I know I've made mistakes, but that doesn't mean I don't love you and worry about you. You are still my daughter, whether you want to be or not," Tara's jaw tightened and she looked away.

"Whatever, mother," the girl picked up her shovel, "Please leave me to finish my detention. If I don't muck out the stables, Headmistress Thickett will concoct a crueller punishment for me. I need to finish," she began to turn, but Virgil cleared his throat.

"Do we get a chance to speak first?"

"I'd rather you didn't," the response was curt, "Again, I think I can go without the "why aren't you more like your mother?" platitudes. Nor the "you're a disgrace to the name Creighton-Ward". I've heard it all before. Several times, in fact. So please, just leave,"

"Tari," Alan's voice was soft and cajoling, "That's not what we wanted to say at all. Please, just hear us out and we'll leave you be," he glanced at his brothers, "_all_ of us,"

She took a deep breath, swallowed, squared her shoulders and turned.

"Look, Tara, we're not going to bullshit you. You don't deserve that," Scott glanced at his father, who shot him a dark look for his language. Despite that, he continued:

"You've changed. Maybe for the better, maybe for the worse. We don't know, because we haven't had the chance to adjust and get to know you. Yeah, we expected something different, because we assumed you were going to come out of here as some uptight debutante, not the girl you clearly have,"

"Exactly," Virgil piped up, "People change, Tara. It's a part of life. We just have to get used to it, just like we'd want you to get used to us and who we are,"

"Please, Tari. Whether you want to believe it or not, we do care about you," Alan spared a glance at Tara's wounded looking mother, "_All_ of us. And we'd love it if you came back and let us get to know you again. Work with us, Tari. Help us help others," he took a tentative step forward, wrapping his arms gingerly around her. She stood stiff for a moment, before she wrapped her free arm around his waist.

Alan chose not to focus on the fact that, with her head tucked nearly beneath his chin, Tara seemed to fit – almost _too_ perfectly.

He leaned his lips to her ear.

"I know somewhere in there, there's still the little girl who wanted to help people,"

Tara sighed.

"_Fine_," she mumbled into Alan's warm chest, "But if anyone calls me "Ra-Ra" again, I can't promise I won't react violently,"

The youngest Tracy laughed, the vibrations ticking the blonde girl's nose.

It was at that moment that the Headmistress decided to make her entrance.

"Miss. Creighton-Ward!" she sounded scandalized, "Not only do I return to find you have yet to finish your detention, I also find you fraternizing inappropriately with a young man! Why, I should just—"

"You'll have to forgive my daughter," Penelope spoke smoothly, "We came to visit her and monopolised Tara's time. She asked us to leave to finish her punishment, but we insisted on speaking with her,"

Emmaline Thickett (who evidently wasn't Lady Penelope's greatest fan) sniffed haughtily.

"That still doesn't explain your daughter being in that young man's arms. Unless, perhaps, she follows more after you than we thought, _Lady_ Creighton-Ward?"

The implication was obvious. However, before any of the Tracy's could protest, Tara spoke for them.

"That was out of line! How dare you—"

"Detention, Miss. Creighton-Ward. And another for failing to complete your assigned task," the grin was almost feral.

Tara grit her teeth and glared.

"I'll have to ask you all to leave Miss. Creighton-Ward now," Thickett spoke in clipped tones, "She must be punished,"

Shooting the headmistress a dark look, Penelope stepped forward and kissed her daughter's forehead, embracing her warmly for a moment. Then she turned and left.

Alan was the only one to notice Tara's shoulders slump ever so slightly the moment her mother was out of sight.

The blonde seemed to be watching Penelope's exit, an almost melancholy expression flitting over her features.

The others followed Penelope's suit, biding Tara fast and fond farewells.

Finally, it came down to Alan. Alan, who saw that maybe all Tara needed was someone to confide in.

A friend.

Struck by his brilliant thought, he slipped his watch off his wrist and pressed it into the blonde's hand. He hugged her.

"Use it if you need me," he hissed in her ear, before pulling back, giving her a warm smile, and running after his family. Thickett made some demand, then, in her sanctimonious way, turned on heel and stomped out.

The teen ignored her.

Tara stared at the watch in her palm, before a small smile made its way across her lips.

She'd figure out what it was eventually, she was sure.

But until then...

The girl slid the watch into her pocket, and turned back to her work

* * *


	5. Forget Her

_**a/n**_ _Reworked 6th November, 2008_

* * *

**Chapter 5** – Forget Her

* * *

  
It had been a non-stop week of mayhem.

No, mayhem was too light a word – it had been _chaos_.

Rescue after rescue, disaster after disaster had struck, and every last one of them demanded attention from International Rescue.

To put it mildly, the boys were exhausted.

As it was, at this point in time, they were settled on the island for some rest and relaxation.

Namely, half of them were asleep, earplugs crammed in their ears in the hope that they could use the "Oh, didn't hear the alarm Father, _sorry_," if another "disaster" arose.

At this point in time, Alan was stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he glared, bleary eyed, at the coffee pot.

Tin-tin was lounging in the family room, flicking through a trashy magazine with a lazy amusement on her dainty features.

She, too, was exhausted from the past week, having had to stay up to keep Jeff running everything, cleaning and checking the Thunderbirds at ungodly hours of the morning, and helping run "mission control".

Which, in retrospect, is probably why Alan should have steered clear from her because, as everyone knows, while a woman may _look_ tame and placid enough when she's exhausted, it doesn't take much to rub her the wrong way – and its then you see the kitty has claws.

"Tin-tin?" Alan yawned from the kitchen? Tin-tin shot him a dark look.

"What?"

"Can you make me some coffee?" the woman rolled her eyes, looking back at her magazine.

"Make it yourself,"

"What? No!"

"Alan, I'm not going to make you coffee. I'm not your mother – do it yourself,"

Alan bristled.

"Why can't you just make some damn coffee?"

"What, are you deaf? Make it yourself, Alan! I'm exhausted,"

"Yeah, I can tell," he sniped, "It's just damn coffee,"

"So then _make it yourself_," she turned back to her magazine.

Alan, of course, didn't fancy admitting he didn't know how to use the percolator. So, instead, he just kept up his argument.

"Tin-tin, that's your job,"

Okay, maybe that was the wrong thing to say.

Tin-tin slammed her magazine shut and stood, glowering darkly at the youngest Tracy.

"That's _my_ job?" she was positively crackling, "_Mine?_ How _dare_ you, Alan Tracy! I knew you were an immature jerk, but I didn't know you were _sexist_ too! You chauvinistic _pig_!"

"What?!" Alan gaped, "That's not what I—"

"I am _not_ in the mood, Alan. Especially not for your whinging," the blonde's eyebrows narrowed.

"_Whinging_? God, you are such a _bitch_,"

"Me? You immature twerp!"

"Self-centred cow!"

"Conceited jerk!"

"Sanctimonious git!"

"_Asshole!"_

"_Bitch!"_ the two let out strangled screams and stormed off in opposite directions.

* * *

  
That night in her dormitory, Tara sat in her four poster, curtains drawn, and debated whether or not to turn on the reading lamp on the wall above her bed.

Deciding against it, seeing as if was after curfew, and all she needed was someone to catch her light on for Thickett to slap her with another detention, she instead withdrew a torch from between her mattress and the headboard and switched it on.

Then, she took out Alan's watch and examined it.

Nimble fingers turned the silver timepiece over and over, trying to find something to explain Alan's cryptic message: _Use it if you need me_

After fifteen minutes of fruitless examination, Tara let out a frustrated groan and threw it against her mattress as hard as she could manage.

_Nothing_.

Damnit.

That is, until the screen crackled to life.

Tara snatched the watch up, azure eyes widened in excitement. It was then she was struck with realisation – and a small fragment of memory.

There, in her minds eye was a small girl, obviously herself, being shown Brains' new invention. A...

"Telephone in a watch," Tara murmured in awe, pressing one of the buttons on the side of the watch to cut the crackling static.

A communicator.

Alan had given her a communicator!

Just as Tara began to ponder how to place calls, she heard heavy footfalls on the stone floors outside her room, and immediately switched off the torch, stashing it below her pillow, and slumping under her covers, closing her eyes and feigning sleep.

Sure enough, mere seconds later, her four-poster curtains were thrown open, and a leery Headmistress peered through, shining a bright torchlight into Tara's supposedly sleeping eyes.

The blonde shifted, mumbling unintelligibly in her fake sleep.

There was a humph, the curtains were yanked shut, the dorm door slammed, and the footfalls retreated.

Tara opened an eye, deciding whether to continue looking to the watch, or try to sleep.

She decided on sleep, and tucked her torch and watch in a safe spot by her bed, before settling back and drifting off.

There would be time to explore her new toy tomorrow.

* * *

  
"Hey Al," Virgil greeted sleepily, sliding into a seat opposite his youngest brother, "Any coffee?" Alan glowered in response, which made the dark haired boy throw his hands into the air in defence.

"Just asked, little bro. No need to give me the look of death," he plucked an apple from the fruit bowl, "What's up?"

"I'm dating a bitch,"

"Ouch. Harsh words. Do I want to know what's brought this on this time?"

"Well she—" Alan paused, "what do you mean _this time_?" Virgil shrugged, sinking his teeth into the apple flesh.

"Well," he said, chewing thoughtfully, "You two are always bickering. It's kind of "your thing" as a couple. So what'd you say this time?"

"What?" Alan spluttered, "You automatically assume _I_ said something? It was her! That self-righteous, arrogant _bitch_!"

"Alan, I think you're being a little ha—"

"Oh, of course," the youngest stood abruptly, throwing his chair back, "Take _her_ side. It's always _my_ fault, isn't it?" he kicked his seat, "Damnit sometimes I hate this family,"

Alan stormed off, leaving Virgil to stare, eyebrow arched, in his youngest brother's wake.

Okay. Maybe he just shouldn't get involved.

Alan stomped out to the beach.

Maybe a walk would calm his nerves.

* * *

  
Tara sat at the breakfast table in Artemis Hall that morning, absentmindedly toying with her new watch whilst she nibbled at her toast.

Around her, Amber and Charlotte were having a heated debate over whether or not bananas were a fruit, a flower or a herb, Ophelia was copying out her Theory of Knowledge homework, and Jenny was nursing a cup of coffee, but Tara didn't particularly care.

The blonde frowned, wrinkling her nose as she contemplated the possible uses of the watch.

Without realising it, she began murmuring under her breath.

That is, until the headmistress strode past.

"MISS. CREIGTON-WARD! Such foul language!" Tara's gaze snapped up.

"But I—"

"Disgusting! Detention, this afternoon,"

"But Headmis—"

"Do not argue with me, Miss. Creighton Ward. I expect to see you at the forest at exactly 2 p.m. You can chop a weeks load of firewood for the groundskeeper,"

"But—"

"Do you want me to make it _two_ weeks worth?"

Tara glared at the retreating figure.

_Bitch_.

* * *

  
"... do you understand me?"

"_Yes _Headmistress," Tara droned. Thickett gave the blonde a hard look.

"Tell me what I said, Miss. Creighton-Ward," Tara sighed.

"I'm to chop this pile of firewood," she ticked it off on her fingers, "I will stack it when I've finished. I will clean the axe when I'm done and return it to the groundskeeper. You will return at 6 to check my progress, and if I'm not done, you'll make me come back tomorrow,"

Thickett sniffed haughtily.

"It's nice to see that even you listen sometime, Miss. Creighton-Ward. Now," she sneered, "Chop,"

And with that, the headmistress strode off, whilst Tara pulled faces at her retreating back.

Grumbling, the blonde hefted the axe onto her shoulder, set a log in place and swung.

* * *

  
Alan stopped along the beach on the far side of the island, clambering up on a large rock which faced out to sea.

It was so peaceful out here – it let him finally sort through the chaos of his thoughts and the events of the day.

The waves lapped gently against the sandy shore, there was a gentle summer breeze which danced over Alan's exposed skin, making him shudder at the sensations.

Like it was said: it was peaceful.

Alan bent his knees to his chest and rested his chin atop his crossed arms and sighed.

The walk, as nice as it was, wasn't what he needed.

No, what he needed was someone to _talk to_.

Unfortunately, his brothers were bound to take Tin-tin's side – they always did.

What he needed was someone willing to listen to _him_. Someone to support him.

Someone like the unshakeable ten year old Tara Creighton-Ward, who would, no matter what, defend him and take his side.

Alan and Tara against the world.

The boy sighed.

Unfortunately, he didn't know what had happened to that Tara. She grew up and disappeared.

Or did she?

Alan glanced down at his watch, lips pursed as he thought.

Maybe she wasn't gone. Maybe she...

He chewed his bottom lip, before deciding to try.

After all, he had nothing to lose, really, did he?

* * *

  
Tara moaned, setting down the axe for a moment to roll her shoulders and rest her aching arms.

Gingerly, she reached a hand up to rub out the knots in her muscles when her watch erupted in shrill beeps.

Startled, yet curious, she pressed the silver button on the side and peered into the watchface.

"_Tari?"_ the blonde let out a small giggle of wonderment.

"You're on my _watch_," she grinned, "Hiya Alan,"

"_You're in a good mood,"_

"Oh no, I'm in a horrible mood. I'm just too exhausted to be grumpy. What's up?"

"_Are you busy? I needed someone to talk to and I thought you might be able to help,"_

"I'm not exactly free, but I'm willing to listen. What's wrong?"

_Alan sighed._

"_It's Tin-tin,"_

"Is she okay?" Tara's eyes widened, "She's not sick, is she?"

"_No, no, nothing like that. Just..."_ A knowing look flitted over the girl's features.

"You two had a fight, didn't you?"

"_Another one, yeah. It's just... I dunno. Everything's been tense lately, and we both just snapped. And we've been bickering so much more lately, I... don't know what to do,"_

"You can try apologizing to start with – whether you're at fault or not – and it sounds like you _both_ are to blame for this, and then... get her flowers? I don't know. Do something nice,"

"_Like what?"_

"Flowers are good. Girls like them. Chocolates work too," Tara curled a stray hair behind her ear and sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she thought, "Poetry? Movies? Candles and romance? Think fluffy romance and try that,"

"_Thanks Tari. Do you think maybe that'll stop the fighting?"_

"Maybe," the girl sighed, "Can I be honest?"

"_Yeah, please do,"_

"Alan, it sounds like you and Tin-tin are having serious relationship issues. Like, worringly serious. I don't know whether anything can salvage a relationship with as much fighting as you said you're doing. Try – don't go down without a fight, but don't be surprised if it doesn't work out," Tara rubbed the back of her neck, "I'm sorry Alan,"

"_No, it's okay. I asked for your help, and you've given it. Thanks for being honest with me, Tari,"_

"You're welcome. Listen, I've got to finish my detention, so why don't you go plan everything and let me know how it goes?"

"_Detention? Again? What did you do this time?"_

"To be honest? No idea. The headmistress just has it in for me,"

"_Oh. That sucks,"_

Tara laughed.

"You're telling me,"

* * *

  
As Alan walked back, he gathered a few flowers from around the island, putting together a small bouquet for his dark haired girlfriend.

As luck happened, Tin-tin was seated outside by the pool when he returned, and Alan took a deep breath, before approaching her.

"Tin-tin?" she glanced up at him, and her eyes widened as she saw the bouquet he thrust at her, "I'm sorry. I was on edge – we both were – and I said some horrible things. I'm so sorry,"

Tin-tin's eyes dropped to her lap.

Her stomach sank.

"Alan," she spoke softly, "I forgive you, but... I think we should break up,"

Cornflower blue eyes widened.

"What?" he spluttered, "why?"

"Why? Alan, surely you've noticed how much we've been fighting lately. I know we don't mean it, but... Alan, it _hurts_ to be fighting constantly. I can't take it anymore. We're just not the same as we used to be. We're just not... compatible. Not anymore. Alan, I'm sorry. Please don't be mad – you know as well as I do that this is the right thing to do. But I really am sorry. We can't fool ourselves – this was doomed to heartache from the start,"

Alan took a few deep breaths, before giving Tin-tin a bitter smile.

"I guess I knew this was coming. I'm sorry too, Tin-tin," he handed her the bouquet and turned, walking back to the beach.

Tin-tin watched him leave with a heavy heart.

* * *

  
Tara was walking back to the main school building, swearing under her breath at her aching muscles when her watch went off again.

This time, she didn't hesitate to press the receive button.

"How'd it go?"

"_You were right_,"

"You two are okay?"

"_We broke up_,"

"Oh," Tara sat down on the grassy slope by the biology block and gave Alan a sympathetic look.

"Al, I'm sorry,"

"_Don't be. You were right – you saw it coming,"_

"Yeah, that doesn't make it any easier,"

"_How about if I told you it doesn't really matter?"_

"I'd call you a liar, Alan. Break-ups suck, whether you were the dumper or dumpee,"

"_You speak from experience?"_

"I've had to counsel my friends through splits before, and yeah. I do,"

For some reason, Alan found himself having to fight to keep calm at the idea not only of Tara dating, but also of someone breaking her heart.

"_Oh? Do I want to know how many?"_

"Nothing serious," the blonde protested, "Just a boy from Rowan Grammar and another from the village by the school. Nothing major, but they still stung when they were over," the blonde closed her eyes. When they fluttered back open, the hint of melancholy was gone.

"Alan, try to find the will to forget her and try to move on. That's the best advice I can give. I know it's hard, but it's the best thing. And don't bottle everything up. Let it out. Call me if you need to, but don't self destruct by holding it in," she gave him a small smile, "Okay?"

"_Okay_," _Alan sighed, "Thanks Tari,"_

"No problems. I'm glad we're still friends,"

"_So am I, Tari. So am I,"_

_

* * *

  
_


	6. One Last Breath

_**a/n**__ Reworked 9__th__ November, 2008_

_

* * *

_**  
Chapter 6** – One Last Breath

* * *

  
Things were somewhat tense for the next few days after Tin-tin and Alan's breakup.

Like it was junior high school all over again, the word spread like wildfire around the island, until it got to a point where the elder Tracy brothers would check before entering a room to make sure they weren't going to throw themselves into a potential World War III situation.

Tin-tin sighed, sinking down into a lounge chair.

Alan seemed hurt, but she had to stick by her guns. She meant what she said. They weren't... right for each other.

"Tin-tin?"

Speak of the devil. Sienna eyes glanced up to meet cornflower blue.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted you to know that we don't need to walk on eggshells around each other. I've done a lot of thinking and... you're right. I understand completely. Okay?"

Tin-tin nodded, speechless.

"Alan, that's... awfully mature of you," she winced the moment the words left her mouth, already anticipating the explosive response.

However, once again, the boy surprised her by giving her a wry smile.

"You'd be surprised how often I can be," he rubbed the back of his neck slowly, "And I've been talked through the whole thing by someone a whole lot wiser than she looks," Alan stood, "I should get back to helping Brains – I just thought I should tell you," he held out his hand, and Tin-tin shook it. The blonde boy flashed her a warm smile, before he headed back to the lab. Tin-tin stared after him.

That was... entirely unexpected.

She blinked for a few moments, regaining her focus, before grabbing a nearby magazine. Absently, she flicked through and skimmed a few columns, before getting bored and deciding instead to do something that needed more of her mind – right now, the half focus was just making her curious about Alan's change of heart.

She elected to run a diagnostics check on the Thunderbirds. Jeff had hinted they'd need a full check up soon, and what better time than the present?

Tin-tin stood, smoothed her shirt, and strode to the Thunderbird Silos.

* * *

  
Gordon groaned, taking off his oil-stained shirt and throwing it over his shoulder. It collided with something (or rather, some_one_), who let out a squeak, shoving the pungent material off her, glaring at the auburn haired, half naked aquanaut.

"Sorry Tin-tin," Gordon had turned at the squeak, "Everything alright?"

"I came to run diagnostic checks on the T'birds," she indicated her clipboard, "You don't mind, do you?"

"Nope," he turned back to the panel he was fiddling with and opened it, "Mind if you save 4 'til last though? I'm just making a few engine modifications that'll take me a bit,"

"Oh," the dark haired girl came over, leaning on the side of the vessel, "Need any help?"

Hazel eyes flitted up, and Gordon gave her a warm smile.

"Thanks Tin-tin. Hand me the number two wrench over there?"

She did so, and could help but gasp as he took the tool from her. The electric sensation down her limb jolted her. Gordon felt it too, because he grinned sheepishly, and moved to hide his face in the engine compartment of Thunderbird 4.

"Um," his voice was distinctly more high pitched, "Can I get a small Phillips head screwdriver?"

Tin-tin took steadying breaths, kept her eyes off Gordon's bared buff torso and handed him the tool.

Gordon swallowed hard, and tried to focus on the mechanisms before him.

* * *

  
Tara was sprawled on the grass beyond the Biology block, eyes closed, as she basked in the sunlight.

Moments later, Jenny barreled out of the school and beelined for the blonde, throwing herself down next to her companion.

"Have news!"

Tara cracked open an eye and arched her brow.

"Noticed," her eyes closed again, "Only care if it's something magnificent. Like Thickett has some form of debilitating disease that's keeping her away from me for the next x amount of years,"

"Better!" Tara sat up.

"Okay, now you've got my attention," she paused, staring at her friend suspiciously for a moment, "This isn't about the Thunderbirds again, is it? Because Jenny, seriously, I don't care that you think you and the pilot of Thunderbird 1 are soulmates,"

Jenny shot her a dark look.

"Despite the fact it's _totally true_, no. That's not it,"

"Then you have my undivided attention,"

"We're going to the Ireland campus in two weeks for a "retreat","

"Seriously?" Tara grinned, clapping her hands for a moment in imitated 3-year-old glee, before her face fell back to what it was moments prior, "Jenny, that's not better than Thickett getting a disease,"

"Did I mention the headmistress _isn't_ coming?"

"No," a small smile danced over Tara's lips, "You didn't. Okay, I take it back. Have you told the others?" Jenny shook her head.

"Ams is on the phone to _Daniel_," the name was said with such saccharine that Tara had to laugh.

"'Phel?"

"On detention somewhere. I'm assuming she got picked because Thickett couldn't find you,"

"True. And 'Lotte?" Jenny shrugged.

"That one's never around,"

"Good point,"

* * *

  
"Hold on," Gordon pushed Tin-tin back, taking in her swollen lips, messy hair and darkened eyes, "We can't be doing this. You're Alan's girl,"

"Gordon, we broke up 3 days ago,"

"Yeah, but you two have broken up before and gotten back together. We can't,"

"We can," soft hands wound their way around Gordon's neck, "This time it's permanent. We're over for good. Alan himself realised we're not... right for each other,"

Hazel eyes brightened.

"Really?"

"Really,"

Gordon's lips covered Tin-tin's without a second thought.

* * *

  
Tara lay awake that night, considering everything that had happened in the past 3 days.

She was going to get a reprieve from Thickett soon enough by a simple trip to the Ireland campus of Thorntree Academy for Girls, she had an awesome communicator watch...thing... and she and Alan were starting to, once again, be close friends.

He'd called her each day since that first time, and the two had just talked. About anything and everything.

It was nice to be able to call him a friend.

But there was still that lingering feeling in the back of her head – undeniably her inner child.

'_Remember the crush you used to have on him?'_ she giggled, blonde curls bouncing as she tossed them over her shoulder, '_I bet you still like him_,'

Tara wondered if it was wrong to kill an inner voice.

'_Don't be ridiculous. I have a boyfriend. And I love him,'_

'_Betcha still like Alan, doncha?'_

Tara rolled over and did her best to ignore the voice.

'_You do!'_

'_Don't. And shut up,'_

_

* * *

  
_Alan was, for no apparent reason, sprawled on his floor, when his watch started beeping.

"Hey Tari,"

"_Why are you on your floor?"_

"I don't remember. I think it has something to do with my bed being too high and over there somewhere," he gestured vaguely. Tara giggled.

"_You're an idiot,"_

"Takes one to know one,"

"_Real mature, Alan,"_

"I know you are but what am I?"

"_An idiot?"_

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me,"

"_That's very good, little Alan. Mind if I talk to your older counterpart now?"_

"Har-har. What's up?"

"_Bored. I've got nothing to do,"_

"Why not homework?"

"_And make people think I'm not a complete delinquent? Please. Besides, it's still break for at least another day. I haven't got any,"_

"Well, you could always—" Alan groaned.

"_What?"_

"The alarm. We're needed,"

"_Oh. Good luck,"_

"Thanks Tari,"

"_Don't do anything stupid...!"_

"Your faith in me is astounding," he responded dryly, "See you,"

Ending the call, Alan trudged down to his father's office, meeting his brothers along the way to be briefed.

* * *

  
Tara sidled into the hall for lunch, sliding into her place in between Amber and Charlotte, snitching a dinner roll.

"Anything particularly interesting happening?"

"No," Ophelia, seated across from the blonde shook her head, swallowing, "Unless you count watching Mary Sue Pleasant gush about her freakily perfect boyfriend Gary Stu Peterson interesting," Tara pulled a face.

"I think I'll pass," she helped herself to the salad and some of the sandwiches on the platter before her, "Nothing else?"

"Liv Betton's made it her personal goal to have slept with the entire 5th form at Rowan Grammar before the end of the year?"

"That's more gross than interesting,"

"I've decided to send a fan letter to the Thunderbird 2 pilot," Tara snorted her food, immediately choking and letting out a hacking cough.

"What?" she looked up at Amber, "Why?"

"Because I think he's dreamy,"

"You've never even seen him! For all you know, he's got a hump back and a monobrow,"

Tara had to force herself not to envision Virgil with said features.

"So?" Amber sniffed, "Besides, I doubt it," she let out a wistful sigh, "I bet he's got a really sexy voice too,"

Again, Tara choked on her lunch, and Charlotte had to whack the blonde's back to help her recover.

"_Amber_!" the azure eyed blonde wiped her chin, "Must you do this whilst I'm eating?"

Amber opened her mouth to retort, but at that exact moment, Lydia Sampson of 6th Form sprinted into the hall.

"Everyone! International Rescue's on the television!"

There was a stampede to get to the nearest House lounge room.

* * *

  
Tara would have been perfectly content to sit in the Artemis Hall and keep eating her lunch.

As it was, she was friends with four of the biggest and weirdest fangirls in existence, and was dragged up to the Draconis Common Room, where the others in her house were practically pressed against the television.

Tara wondered if it was just Draconis House that was this weird, or whether everyone in the Aquila, Delphinus and Panthera houses were the same as these oddballs.

* * *

  
"_... International Rescue is in a tight spot here! What will they do next?"_

"Virgil! Your approach angle is too steep! Pull back!"

"F.A.B. Scott,' Virgil pulled Thunderbird 2 up, adjusting the ship's nose, before trying the descent again.

"Drop your pod, Virg. You're in a good spot now,"

"Releasing clamps now," Virgil slammed his palm against the engage button and with an almighty splash, the pod dropped.

The door opened, and moments later, Gordon slid down the chute in Thunderbird 4, which cut cleanly into the water. The engines fired up and carried him with little effort towards the smouldering ship.

"_You have to pick up the Atomic Charges, Gordo,"_ Scott's voice crackled over the intercom.

"F.A.B. Scott," Gordon's searchlights scanned the area, until they caught on something reflecting in the deep.

"How many am I looking for?"

"The engineer thinks there should be no more than five. Be careful,"

"F.A.B."

With the claws of Thunderbird 4 extended, Gordon set about picking up each charge he came across and disarming them before they detonated.

Meanwhile, Virgil continued lowering Thunderbird 2 until Scott gave him the OK to stop.

"Can you see the crew?"

"They're about 200 meters to my left,"

"Lower the drop lead and get Alan to set 'em up and make sure we've got everyone. We'll take them back with us to land,"

"F.A.B." Alan responded, moving from the cockpit into the carriage, "Lower me at will, Virg,"

* * *

  
"Oh dear!" Ophelia chewed her bottom lip nervously, "I hope they make it out okay!"

"They will," Tara sat back, examining her nails. This whole hysteria lost its excitement when she discovered she'd known International Rescue all her life. Somehow she just couldn't seem to get with the whole "ZOMGHEROES" fuss everyone made when she'd seen all five Tracy boys bickering, dunking their brothers, covered in flour, tarred and feathered, and acting like boys.

"Oh, my poor Thunderbird 2 pilot! I hope he doesn't get hurt!"

"He won't Amber,"

"I can't believe they're letting themselves get taped! I wonder if maybe we'll finally see what they look like!" Charlotte bounced in her seat, "I want to see the pilot of Thunderbird 4! I bet he's so hot!"

Tara had to bite back her laughter, and thank the heavens Gordon wasn't around to hear that. She didn't think he's ego would ever shrink if he knew he had fangirls.

"No way, 'lotte," Ophelia dismissed, "It's definitely the Thunderbird 5 pilot,"

"What? How would you know? He's in space all the time!" Ophelia shrugged at Tara's exclamation.

"I just bet he is. I bet he's the strong, silent type too,"

"I bet he's a complete nerd," Tara supplied, cheerfully, "Probably spends all his time reading,"

"Yeah," Ophelia sighed dreamily, "He's probably a genius. And I bet he's just _gorgeous_. He's probably really buff too,"

"He's probably a weed, Ophelia," (Tara struggled not to imagine John as a vibrant green, curling weed. It was a real struggle.) Tara gave her friend a firm glance, "I really don't understand why all of you have this... puppy love for International Rescue,"

Jenny shot the blonde a glare.

"I bet you're just in denial. I bet you secretly have the hots for the Thunderbird 3 pilot,"

Tara pointedly ignored her furiously nodding inner child.

"Please," the girl scoffed, "Not likely,"

"I bet you do!"

"And I'll bet you forgot to take your medication this morning?" the blonde smiled sweetly. Jenny whacked the girl's knee.

"Hush you. Besides, you're going to make me miss watching out for my one true love,"

"Jenny, for the last time, the Thunderbird 1 pilot is not your one true love,"

"Bet he is. He just doesn't know it yet,"

Tara rolled her eyes and slumped back into her seat.

There was really no point in arguing anymore. She was just going to have to suck it up and listen to her friends gush over the boys who were practically her brothers.

Her friends, on the other hand, decided to ignore Tara's scoffs, choking and laughter at their commentary.

They'd long accepted Tara turns into a total spaz when they International Rescue fangirl.

Really, it was part of her charm.

* * *


	7. Defying Gravity

_**a/n**__ Reworked 9__th__ November, 2008_

_

* * *

  
_**Chapter 7** – Defying Gravity

* * *

Tara was probably the one most eagerly awaiting the day of the trip to the Ireland Campus – more so than any of her friends, at any rate, so when the day finally arrived, Tara was the first out of bed, the first to throw on her jeans, sneakers, white singlet and grey cardigan, and most definitely the first to bring her bags down to the waiting coaches.

Then, she set about waking her friends in the Draconis 5th Form dormitory, and skipped down to breakfast.

Soon enough, the girls were loaded onto the buses, with Tara, Charlotte, Ophelia, Amber and Jenny claiming the back seat and giggling in excitement over what was to come.

Just before they left the school, however, Headmistress Thickett strode onto the coach and glared at the troublemakers at the back.

"Miss. Creighton Ward, just because I know you're going to do _something_ inappropriate on this trip, detention when you return,"

"But—What?"

"You heard me, Miss. Creighton-Ward. You will complete a detention when you return, regardless of any good behaviour. It will be more if I receive reports of rowdy and unseemly behaviour from you by any staff member. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly, Headmistress," Tara responded poisonously. Thickett clicked her tongue.

"Another for that disgusting and disrespectful tone," the girl glowered at the headmistress' retreating back, until Jenny nudged her.

"You realise one more detention, and you'll be tied with the school's record?"

Tara swore under her breath.

"That would just be my luck, wouldn't it?"

Amber snickered.

"Probably. But you'd go down in history as "Tara Creighton-Ward: Biggest delinquent ever,"

The Asian girl let out a small cry as the blonde's hand shot out to smack her arm.

* * *

  
The moment they arrived, were shown to their rooms, and had unpacked, Tara stumbled out to the vast grassy fields surrounding the campus and closed her eyes, spinning around in the warm, golden sunlight.

Already she could see herself enjoying it here.

With smothered laughter, Tara heard her friends approach, and she flopped down onto the ground, a contented smile dancing over her lips.

"A Free day. Are there any sweeter words?"

"Ding, dong, the headmistress is dead?" Tara supplied, cracking open an azure eye as the four other teenagers sat around her.

"Charming," Jenny drawled, withdrawing the hand-held radio Tara had been given as "team leader" for their challenges over the next two weeks, "Wonder what the range on this thing is,"

Tara took it off her, rolling onto her stomach to examine it.

"Pretty good, by the looks of things. This transmitter's one of the more powerful ones on the market,"

"How do you know?" the blonde flashed her friend a dazzling smile.

"You know I study useless skills during my break times,"

"What, like defensive driving?" Tara laughed.

"No, that was recommended to me by Mr. North. He... seemed to think I would benefit from learning defensive and stunt driving,"

"So why electronics?"

"A family friend's a brilliant inventor. Thought it might be nice to actually understand what the hell Brains is going on about half the time," the girl handed the radio back to Jenny and rested her chin on her palms, "Why'd you want to know the range?"

Jenny gave her a dazzling grin.

"I was hoping we could call up International Rescue,"

"I'm sure they've got better things to do than listen to gushing fangirls. Besides, do you really want to make their egos grow?"

"I bet they don't have egos," Ophelia sighed dreamily, "They seem so humble,"

"That's so hot," Amber agreed.

Tara groaned.

"Nothing I say will convince you this is a bad idea, will it?"

"Nope,"

The blonde collapsed facedown on the grass.

"_Fine,"_ she murmured, "But if they get mad, I had _nothing to do with it_. In fact," Tara rose, "I'm going to go and climb that tree over there and sit in it until you're done,"

"'kay," Tara rolled her eyes and made for the tree.

The irony of this whole situation was that the only one whom International Rescue would not become glaringly frustrated with hailing them in a non-emergency situation had just gone and sat in a tree.

Oh well.

Such is the nature of life.

The moment she was out of earshot, Tara's watch went off.

"Hold on," she told Alan after pressing the receive button, "I'm just climbing a tree. Give me 5 minutes,"

"_I... don't want to know, do I?_"

Tara cracked a grin.

"Doubt it,"

* * *

  
Many, many miles away, a bald man sat behind a desk in a Malaysian temple, looking, for all points and purposes, like a stereotypical villain.

All he was missing was the fluffy Persian cat. Which was mainly due to his horrible cat allergy.

So, he sat at his desk, instead, leaning back, fingers steepled to his temple.

"If I could take out International Rescue's operatives..." he contemplated aloud, "I could disable the Thunderbirds... But how?" he stood, walking to a tall statue of stone.

"I must find out the leader of the operatives. I must know their weakness," His eyes began to glow a sickly yellow.

"Kyrano. Kyrano – Kyrano, my half brother! Where is the leader of the International Rescue Operatives? Where is their weakness?" his powerful voice demanded.

Thousands of miles away, that same voice echoed in the head of one Kyrano, who crumpled to a heap on the ground, moaning aloud at the pain it caused.

"Th—th—"

"_ANSWER ME, KYRANO,"_

"Creighton-Ward! Thorntree Academy!" he cried out.

Kyrano collapsed into a dead faint.

The man in the Malaysian temple grinned.

The weakness was at Thorntree Academy.

One _Creighton-Ward_.

He would find her and destroy her.

* * *

  
Tara and her friends were sprawled over the ground beside the lake at the back of the Ireland grounds.

They had been there for three days now and Tara had to say she was enjoying it.

The group challenges were fun, and she was all-too-easily taking on the role of leader over not only her friends, but the others thrust in her group.

It was fun.

At this point in time, however, they were in between challenges, and enjoying a few moments of free time before the next one started.

"Oh Tars!" Amber sat up abruptly, "Did I show you the earrings Dan gave me for our 6 month anniversary?" Tara lazily opened an eye.

"Nope, you didn't," she responded. Amber beamed, thrusting a hand into her pocket.

With a look of deep concentration, she searched for a few moments, before coming up with nothing but pocket fluff.

She pouted.

"I can't find them," eyes widened in horror, "What if I've lost them?"

"Relax, Ams," Charlotte soothed, "I'm sure they're just inside,"

"Come with me to get them?" the dark haired Spaniard didn't get a chance to protest as Amber grabbed her arm, hauled her up, and dragged her towards the school.

The girls easily made their way to their downstairs dormitory, and Amber threw open the door to their room.

Something inside flashed and a deafening boom resonated through the building.

Another sounded from above them, and many more from all throughout the school.

The stone floor began to shake, and a shock wave threw the girls back into the hall.

Rubble began falling from the ceiling, and Charlotte stumbled, her leg snapping easily as timber support beams tumbled down, one catching her right leg as it fell.

Amber fell backwards, and let the blackness swimming in her vision consume her.

* * *

  
Azure eyes snapped towards the school the moment the explosion occurred, and all the girls gathered felt the heat wave strike them from the school.

All those who weren't outside for the lunchbreak were pouring out the door, running furiously from the school which was now beginning to blaze

"_Fuck!_" Tara swore loudly, jumping to her feet, "Amber and Charlotte were in there!"

Jenny's arm closed over Tara's forearm before the girl could sprint in after them.

"Tara, we can't! It's too dangerous! We need help to rescue them!"

_Rescue_.

The word made Tara snatch the radio from her belt.

"Calling International Rescue! International Rescue! This is Tara Creighton-Ward at the Thorntree Academy Ireland Campus. Can you hear me International Rescue?"

Up on Thunderbird 5, John looked up from his magazine and leaned over to the receiver where Tara's desperate voice flowed through.

"This is International Rescue, Thorntree. What seems to be the—"

_"No time! John, someone's set bombs off in the main building. We need Thunderbirds 1 and 2 and the Firefly. I've got two friends trapped inside – We need this ASAP,"_

"FAB, Tara. I'll call the island. You find out just how many people are trapped inside,"

"FAB," the blonde responded, shrugging off Jenny's grasp, before she turned to her two remaining friends, handing Ophelia the radio.

"Jenny, I want you to run a roll call. Find out how many people are still inside. Ophelia, I'm giving you the radio. When Jenny finds out, tell International Rescue. They're on their way. I want you to be their liason if they need it,"

"But why don't you keep it?" Tara tied up her hair in a high ponytail.

"Because," she stripped off her cardigan and straightened the cuff on her right wrist, "I'm going inside,"

She turned back to Jenny who looked like she was about to object.

"Do me a favour? If any of them start ranting about my irresponsibility, tell them I've got my watch,"

The blonde tied a scarf around her nose and mouth, then turned, took a deep breath, and sprinted inside.

* * *

  
"Scott, John will brief you on the way,"

"FAB, father," Scott immediately moved to the lamps and made his entry into the Thunderbird 1 silo and his ship.

"Virgil, Tara's requested the Firefly. There also may be people trapped inside, so I think you should take Alan and Gordon with you. Alan, the moment you know something, I want you to call in. We cannot risk anything happening to Tara,"

The three remaining sons nodded curtly.

"FAB father,"

Jeff watched his sons leave, before turning back to John's portrait.

"Call Tara, John. Tell her International Rescue is on its way,"

"FAB," John turned, sliding across to the transmitter Tara was on.

"Thorntree Academy, this is International Rescue,"

"_International Rescue, this is Thorntree Academy_," John's brow furrowed at the unfamiliar voice.

"You're not Tara. What happened to her?"

"_She's gone inside!"_ came the desperate reply.

"_WHAT?_" John fumed, "Doesn't she realise how dangerous that is? That hardheaded little—"

"_She told me to tell you that she has her watch,"_

John froze.

"Her... watch?"

The blonde pinched the bridge of his nose.

She had a communicator.

* * *

  
Tara coughed through her scarf in the thick, grey smog. She dropped to the floor, crawling as low to the ground as she could.

So far, so good. She hadn't encountered any fires yet.

Then her watch went off.

She winced.

"_TARA BELLE AMELIA CREIGHTON-WARD, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!_"

"Going in after my friends, John," she coughed again, "Little busy. Yell at me later," she hung up.

The girl reached the small staircase to the dorms and slid down it, wiping the perspiration from her brow.

More than anything, at that point, she wished she had an International Rescue fire suit.

She wiped away more beads of sweat that trickled down her brow.

In the distance, the blonde heard a scream, and began crawling in that direction. The debris was falling more heavily around her, and Tara did her best to avoid it, but the last roll out of the way ended with her wrist smashed heavily against the wall.

She grimaced.

The face of the watch was shattered.

"_Sorry Alan_," she murmured, before sliding along the wall to the nearest door leading to the rooms.

The girl pressed a hand against it and swore.

The door was hot.

There was a fire on the other side.

She glanced around and searched for something.

_Anything_.

* * *

  
The moment Scott arrived, he called in the island to let everyone know he was there and to inform them of the situation.

Then he lowered the ramp and walked out, silver uniform glinting in the afternoon sun.

A dark haired girl sprinted over, and introduced herself in a babble, as Jenny, and began to fill him in, but he held up a hand.

"How long ago did Miss. Creighton-Ward go in?"

"About 5 minutes," Jenny bit her lip, "I'm so scared,"

Scott turned his watch around and keyed something in.

"Thunderbird two, what's your ETA?"

"_3.5 minutes. Why?"_

"Things aren't looking good here. Alan, try hailing Tara on her communicator, she's been inside for coming up on 5 minutes, and no-one's heard from her since,"

"_SHE DID WHAT?_"

"Calm down. Call her,"

Alan took a few steadying breaths, then pressed a button on his own watch.

"Tara?"

_No reply_

"Tara, this is Alan. Do you read?"

_Dead air_.

"TARA, DAMNIT ANSWER ME,"

_Nothing_.

"Maybe she can't hear it over the fire?" Virgil supplied. Alan moaned, sinking lower in his seat.

"If something's happened to her..." Gordon patted his brother's back gently.

"She's Tara. She won't go down without a fight,"

* * *

  
"_Goddamn fucking—"_ Tara grumbled, sliding through the back hallway to the dorms.

Tara heard the scream, again, but this time could make out words.

"_Help! Someone! Help!_"

It was Charlotte.

Tara no longer cared about the smoke. All she wanted was to get her friends out alive.

* * *

  
The huge green jet pulled into a landing, and Alan lowered the pod with Virgil and Gordon inside.

Alan, of course, was commanded to stay, seeing as the students and staff may recognise him.

Virgil opened the pod door and drove the firefly out, taking it to clear the burning rubble from before the school.

It had been almost 10 minutes now, and there was still no word from Tara.

Alan furiously paced the cockpit, not being able to stand not knowing if she was dead or alive.

Tara couldn't die. Not now. Not when they were so close again.

She couldn't.

He wouldn't let her.

* * *

  
Tara kicked down the last door, finding Charlotte pinned under a beam and Amber unconscious nearby.

She swore loudly.

"Tara!" Charlotte turned as much as she could, "You came!"

"International Rescue are too. Come on, I've got to get you two out," she knelt beside Amber and began gently slapping the girl's face, "C'mon, Ams. Don't do this to me now,"

Slowly, Amber began to stir.

"Tara?" she murmured groggily, "Izzat you?"

"It's me. Come on. Wake up, I'm getting you two out of here,"

She then turned to Charlotte and saw the beam.

"Fuck," Tara raked her fingers through her hair and crouched, getting a firm grip on the beam and hauling.

It didn't budge.

Adrenaline was coursing through her system, but still Tara couldn't move it.

Her eyes darted around the room, and settled on an iron post, debris from the first explosion.

She snatched it up and turned back to Charlotte, wedging the post between the beam and the floor, and used it to lever the wood off the Spaniard. Charlotte dragged herself back and let out painful gasps.

"Tara, my leg's broken,"

"I know," the blonde moaned, "I'm going to have to haul you out of here on my back," she crouched beside the broken leg and stripped off her scarf, using it to tie a fast tourniquet over the laceration to stem the bleeding. Then she hauled her friend onto her back, ordering Charlotte to use her legs to keep her there as best she could and to hold on tight.

Amber was now slightly more alert, and Tara ordered her up.

"Follow me. Nobody gets left behind,"

* * *

  
Fifteen minutes.

It had been _fifteen-goddamn-minutes_ and they'd heard nothing.

Virgil and Gordon had cleared the entrance as best as they could and dealt with as many of the fires as possible, and now were just waiting with Scott by Thunderbird 1.

Scott, of course, was still fuming at Tara's heroism. Particularly after Jenny had informed him that Tara, Charlotte and Amber were the only ones inside now – everyone else had been accounted for.

"You know," Gordon sighed, "If she doesn't make it out, Lady P's going to slaughter us,"

"Oh, she'll make it out," Scott cracked his knuckles, "and then I'll slaughter _her_ myself,"

* * *

  
"Tars?" Amber coughed, "Are we going to die?"

"No," Tara was firm, "Not on my watch," the blonde covered her nose and mouth with her hand, her head starting to spin.

"I don't feel well, Tars,"

"Hold on, 'Lotte. We're getting out of here, I promise you,"

The flames roared around the girls, dancing and smouldering over the debris.

Everything that was once the library was gone.

"We're almost there," Tara muttered, crawling around a spot fire, "We can hold on,"

* * *

  
Tara's lungs protested, her throat burning in the smoke and the heat.

Her entire body seemed to protest no more. Charlotte was getting heavier, and Tara's stomach sank.

It'd be a fight to move past the next doorway.

'_Please_,' she prayed silently, '_Let us get out of here. I have to live, even if it's just to see everyone again. I'm too young to die – I can't say goodbye. Not yet,'_

The smoke was getting overpowering. Tara began a coughing fit.

"Tars? You OK?" Tara's only response was her spluttering.

Amber watched fearfully as Tara collapsed in front of her.

* * *

  
Alan had tried repeatedly to hail Tara's communicator, but he still had no response.

Now, frustrated, he decided to see if he could raise her bio readings. If she was wearing it, it should tell him if she's alive or not.

He pressed a few buttons, and his stomach sank.

"No!"

Suddenly it didn't matter if people knew who he was. He sprinted down the ramp to his brothers.

"She's dead!" three pairs of eyes snapped to their sibling.

"What?"

"The watch. It's not getting readings. She's dead," Alan choked, "Tara's dead,"

Virgil, Scott and Alan all stood, staring at the zero readings, heads bowed. But Gordon still watched the school.

"She's dead," Virgil muttered, "Ra-ra's dead,"

"Not today," Gordon shoved his brothers to get their attention, "Look!"

Sure enough, an ash covered Tara Creighton-Ward stumbled out of the school, leading a coughing Amber Lam, and carrying a wounded Charlotte Silva.

Eyes wide, the four International Rescuers tore down to the blonde.

Alan caught her as she stumbled forward.

"Tara!" Gordon took the wounded girl from her back while Virgil led the other towards the medics. Tara smiled weakly up at the silver-suited boys.

"You're alright," the girl nodded, coughing.

"Mostly," she managed to rasp out. She opened her mouth to continue, but a medic took her, offering her water and sticking her on a ventilator.

Tara took a few deep breaths, until she could breathe without coughing, and turned back to look at Alan.

"Now I'm okay," she flashed him a warm smile.

"You _idiot_," Alan took her into a hug, "You should've waited for us,"

"They're my friends, Alan. I couldn't risk waiting for you guys to turn up,"

"I understand that, but _you're_ going to have to explain that to the higher ups," Tara's eyes widened in horror.

"Oh no. You didn't—"

"Yeah. Dad called your mother,"

Tara swore under her breath.

* * *

Jeff, Lady Penelope, Parker, Tin-tin and Kyrano had gathered in Jeff's study, awaiting news from the boys.

It had been 20 minutes since John had told them of his brief conversation with Tara, and 19 since Scott had last called in to confirm the blonde had run inside.

Penelope was beside herself, sobbing, whilst Parker comforted her as best he could.

Jeff sighed, running his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, hoping for some good news.

It was then Scott's eyes began glowing on his portrait. Jeff pressed the accept button on his desk, raising the speaker.

"Go ahead, Scott,"

"Father! She's alive! Tara's alive!" Penelope looked up, mascara running down her cheeks.

"Alive?"

"Yes Father!" Gordon butted in, "Alan's with her now. She rescued her friends and made it out alive! She's a heroaah! Father, it's Alice Cooper!"

Jeff raised an eyebrow at his second youngest son. Lady Penelope glared.

"Where is my daughter, Gordon Cooper Tracy?" she gave him her best icy tone. Gordon rolled his eyes.

"It was just a joke, Lady P. Lighten up. Tara's about to be taken to the Eolande Hospital,"

The blonde woman stood, wiping what makeup she could from her cheeks, and turned to Parker.

"Get the Rolls. We're going to see my daughter,"

* * *

  
Penelope and Parker raced through the hospital doors and into the small room where Tara was seated on a bed, hooked up to a ventilator for her smoke inhalation.

As it was, she sat on the bed, pouting.

"Tara!" Penelope swooped in, embracing her daughter and kissing her forehead.

Tara was taken aback.

"Mother...?"

"Oh Tara, I'm so proud of you for rescuing your friends, but I was so worried!"

"_Mother...?_"

"Calm down, Lady P. Tara was brilliant," Azure eyes flitted to the door where the four Tracy brothers stood, now dressed down in their normal clothing.

"Not many girls would run into a burning building to save their friends from almost certain death," Virgil scuffed the girls hair happily while Tara glared, poking him in the stomach. Scott laughed, and Gordon sat on the foot of her bed. Alan squeezed her hand, beaming as he set down a small gift box containing a new communicator watch on her beside.

Tara lay back on her pillows, sighing lightly.

'_Maybe_,' she thought, '_Maybe I've just made up for my last visit_,"

Her gaze darted to Penelope, who was holding her other hand, tears welling in her bright cerulean eyes.

The Lady kissed her daughter's forehead again.

"I'm so proud of you, Tara. And I'm sorry for not telling you that enough," she squeezed her hand, "You've become your own strong person, and I'm so proud of you for that,"

Tara gave her a small smile.

Maybe she could try. Maybe she could use this as a turning point.

"Thanks, Mum," she murmured. Penelope was positively beaming.

* * *


	8. I'm Not Yours

_**a/n**__ Reworked 9__th__ November, 2008_

_

* * *

_**Chapter 8** – I'm Not Yours

* * *

After Tara had been released from hospital, Penelope requested time for her daughter off school, just so she could come home for a few days and the two could reconnect as a family.

Tara was more than willing – not only because she wanted to set things right, but also because she was eager to escape the wrath of Thickett for a few days, knowing the headmistress was livid at the fact it had been Tara Creighton-Ward who saved the lives of two students.

That same Tara Creighton Ward that the headmistress had been attempting to expel for the past few years.

That very same Tara Creighton-Ward who the headmistress told, many times, she would never amount to anything and was nothing less than the scum of the earth.

Tara wondered what shade of puce Thickett's face would be the moment Tara did return to school.

As soon as Tara had put her bags down in her old room – a room that truly hadn't changed since she'd last seen it – she turned to see Penelope at the door, wringing her hands.

"Now Tara, I'm truly sorry, but Parker and I are going to have to go out tonight. I have a prior commitment that I couldn't get out of, as much as I tried,"

"It's okay, mother," Tara flashed her a small smile, "I'm a big girl. I can survive at home alone for a night,"

"Are you sure? I know I promised to be—"

"Mum, calm down. I'll be fine,"

Penelope fussed for a few more moments, before sighing and nodding.

"I know. I trust you, Tara,"

The moment Penelope left, a grin spread over the girl's fine features.

She was going to be home. _Alone_. In London.

_Awesome._

_

* * *

  
_"Goodbye sweetheart," Penelope kissed her daughter on the forehead, "Try not to do anything dangerous," Tara gave her mother an angelic smile and watched as Penelope glided out the door and into Fab 1.

Parker closed the door behind her and inside, Tara grinned to herself, withdrawing her mobile from the front pocket of her jeans.

As the Rolls got smaller and smaller on the horizon, Tara closed the front door and dialled the number of her boy.

"Hey Josh!" she nudged the door shut with her backside, "How are you?"

"_Tara. I'm fine,"_

"Great. Listen, I'm in London for a bit, and I've got the manor all to myself. D'you want to come over?" she combed her fingers through her blonde hair. Josh made a non-committal noise.

"_I'd better not_," he said, sounding distracted, "_I've got some stuff to get tonight,"_

"Oh,"

"_Why don't you come here?"_

"Okay!"

"_But can you bring money? My paycheck still hasn't cashed,"_

"How much?"

"_The usual should do. £1,500,"_

"Okay. I'll be there in 20?"

"_Great_,"

"Love you, Josh,"

"_I know_," he hung up, and Tara flipped her phone shut, winking at her reflection in the hall mirror.

She was hanging out with the boy she loved tonight. It was all good.

* * *

When Tara got to Josh's apartment, Josh beamed to see the bulge in her pocket from her wallet, crammed with notes.

"Hey sweetheart," he snatched a kiss, "Why don't you head down to the alley two blocks down and get my crystal, while I get us dinner?"

Tara curled a stray blonde hair behind her ear and nodded.

"Just ask for the extra strength tobacco?" Josh bit back a snort, and shook his head.

"Call it crystal. He'll know what you're talking about,"

"Okay,"

Tara felt beyond uncomfortable as she wandered into the alley, peering through the shadows for any figure that might help her.

Azure eyes finally settled on a sleezy looking man in the corner who eyed her appreciatively, eyes fixed on her full bust, in her long sleeved, close fit white V-necked shirt.

Tara fiddled with her watch – a habit she'd picked up lately when she was nervous.

"Um, hi? My boyfriend sent me to get some crystal? Can you help me?"

"Honey, I'd love to help you all night,"

Tara recoiled, disgusted.

"That's—"

"If you want crystal, I've got Grade A Crystal Meth right here," he withdrew a baggy of the familiar looking crystals and showed them to the blonde.

Tara was on the verge of withdrawing her wallet when her mind registered what he said.

"Wait. Crystal meth?"

"Top quality,"

"As in _Crystal Methamphetamine_?"

"Call it whatever you want, honey,"

A look of horror flitted over the teen's features.

"He lied to me!" she exclaimed, before turning and sprinting back to Josh's flat, "That bastard lied to me!"

* * *

Josh was sprawled on the sofa, waiting for Tara's return with his meth.

Sometimes it was wonderful having a naïve rich girlfriend like Tara. All he had to do was spout platitudes of love and eternity, and she did whatever he wanted.

At that moment, the blonde burst into the apartment.

"Crystal Meth? You've had me buying you drugs?"

Josh was surprised by Tara's outburst.

"You lying bastard! All this time! I can't believe you!" He stood, towering over the petite blonde.

"Listen here, Tara—"

"No! I'm not going to let you feed me any more of your bullshit! I can't believe I did it at all!"

"Listen, Tara. You'll do what I tell you, you hear me? You're my girlfriend Tara, and that means you obey me! You're mine,"

"It does not! And I'm not _yours_," she spat at him, "I'm leaving, you—" Josh's hand snapped out, striking Tara across the face so hard she was knocked to the floor.

She stared up at him, horrified.

"Give me my meth, Tara,"

"I didn't get it," she whimpered, suddenly conscious of the fact he was taller, stronger and much, much angrier than her.

Hands yanked her to her feet, shoving her backwards into the wall. Tara's head bounced off the plaster and she let out a small cry.

"What do you mean you didn't get it?" he snarled, "That is the only reason you're around, Tara. To fund it. So where the fuck is it?"

"I didn't buy it!" she cried out, "Please, don't hurt me!" he slapped her across the face again, splitting her lip.

"I'll give you one more chance Tara, and you're either going to produce the bag of meth, or you're going to be in a lot more pain,"

"I can't! I don't have it!"

The blonde screamed as his fist connected with her stomach, and she crumpled to the ground the moment he released her.

His feet lashed out, and Tara curled into a ball, letting her legs and arms absorb the impact.

She whimpered in agony.

* * *

"_... thanks Alan. I appreciate it. Just to make sure Tara's okay,"_

"It's no problem, Lady P. I'll head over to the manor now,"

"_Thank you Alan. I'm sure Tara's perfectly fine, I just worry about her..."_

_

* * *

  
_As soon as Tara began coughing up blood, she knew she needed to get out.

The moment Josh stopped kicking her, she made a break for the wide open door, stumbling out and down the stairs.

Away from him.

Tara was clutching her side, ignoring the blood dribbling down her chin and trying to keep the weight of her more injured leg as she hobbled along the street. Tears were pouring from her eyes at not only the pain, but also the fact that this had happened.

What this meant.

She thought she loved him, and he did this to her?

God, what kind of person was she if this happened to her?

"... she's a little battered, boys, but what did I tell you?" an oily voice piped up from behind the blonde, and she span to see the drug dealer from earlier, still leering at her, and now joined by three others.

"Nice," one sneered, "Legs like a racehorse and what a fantastic ass,"

"Mmm," another agreed, "Can't wait to feel those legs wrapped around me. Mmm, Bet she's a virgin too. Can't wait to hear her scream,"

Tara's eyes widened in horror.

She opened her mouth to scream, but the third stepped forward, covering her mouth with his hand.

"Ssh, and I won't cut you," he hissed, before looping his arm around Tara's neck and dragging her back into the alley.

He threw her down, and Tara's arms flailed out, her watch smashing against the concrete and, unknowingly, dialling the last called communicator.

Alan's.

* * *

"Hey Tara what's—"

"_Please! No! Don't! No! Don't touch me! Let me go--!!"_

"Tara?"

"_No! No! Please don't! I'm only 16! You can't! No! NO!"_

It didn't take long for Alan to realise what he was hearing.

He forced the communicator to triangulate Tara's signal, and immediately adjusted his course.

It would take him a little less than 5 minutes to get there.

He just hoped she wasn't...

Alan's stomach turned at the thought.

* * *

One of the men was in the process of ripping Tara's shirt as the girl cried out and begged, pleading for them to let her go. Every movement was jostling her fresh wounds, and she was terrified that they were actually going to...

"Please, I'll give you money! Just let me go!"

"Oh, honey, a piece of ass like you doesn't come along every day," the dealer removed her wallet from her pants and flicked it open.

"Licence says you're... hmm. Creighton-Ward, eh? Well, well, boys. Looks like we've got ourselves a real silver-spooned aristocrat," he leered, "This should be fun,"

With her shirt gaping wide, the man astride her began working her jeans open, and Tara screamed.

The one with the knife slapped her across the face.

"Listen, Princess. One more time, and I will slice up that pretty face of yours. So shut up and stop your whimpering,"

"_Let her go!_" The three men turned at the sound of the voice, and were immediately confronted by headlights.

At the thought of getting caught, they scampered.

Tara sobbed in relief.

Her rescuer knelt beside her, and turned her over to face him.

"Oh God, Tara," he murmured, "What happened?"

Tara tried to respond, but all too suddenly, her tongue felt too thick, her limbs to heavy, and her vision swam. She slipped into dark oblivion.

Alan bundled Tara into his car, and drove her to the nearest hospital emergency room. He explained what he could, and the doctors took her immediately to do what they could for her.

The blonde boy sighed, raking his fingers through his hair, and he withdrew his phone.

He needed to tell his family about this.

* * *

  
Alan sat in the waiting room, trying to focus on something other than the image of Tara's beaten body that kept flickering up in his minds eye.

He didn't want to think about what would have happened if Tara hadn't accidentally called him.

Alan dragged a hand down his face and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.

A nurse approached him.

"Are you the young man who brought in Miss. Creighton-Ward?" Alan's cornflower blue eyes snapped open.

"Yes. Is she alright?"

"She's better. The doctors have finished stitching her up, bandaging her and have made sure there'll be no lasting damage. She's been settled into room 103 in the Montague Wing, if you'd like to go and visit her,"

"Thanks," Alan couldn't leave fast enough.

Tapping his foot impatiently, Alan let out a sigh of relief when the double doors of the elevator opened, and he scanned the room numbers, finally finding room 103 - where the sleeping figure of Tara lay.

The doctors had cleaned her up, but the wounds were nasty.

She had stitches on her lip, above her eye, bandages around her head, arms, fingers, bruises throbbing on her cheek, her eye, and what he could see of the rest of her body.

Alan couldn't explain it, but he felt something... something deep in his gut.

Anger.

Raw hatred.

If he ever caught who did this to Tara...

Alan shook the thoughts from his head.

He was a rescuer, not a murderer.

Alan sank into a seat beside her bed and sighed.

* * *

_**a/n**__ I know I've refrained from author-noting all my rewrites, but I just had to say something here._

_As you may have noticed, the chapter titles have all changed, and now relate to various songs in my iTunes library. This chapter title, "I'm not yours", as well as the next, "Neverland" both come from a **super special awesome band** I've been listening to of late, called "**Flavour**"._

_Now, I thoroughly recommend you guys check out __**Flavour**__ (search for them on myspace), just because they really are __**Super Special Awesome**__. They've just released their EP, and I can safely say that "Neverland" is one of my favourite songs._

_So check them out. You won't regret it._

_xx The Flame Faerie_


	9. Neverland

_**a/n**__ Reworked 10__th__ November, 2008_

_

* * *

_**Chapter 9** - Neverland

* * *

  
It took a few more days, but Tara's azure eyes opened once again. After they had adjusted to the bright light, her gaze snapped around the unfamiliar room.

_Where in the..._

Her mind kept drawing blanks each time she tried to recall, until finally, she gave up and sighed.

It was that sigh that brought people running to her beside.

Standing around her were seven people. It took a few moments for Tara to compute their faces.

Her mother was there, beside Parker and Uncle Jeff... then there was Scott, Virgil and Gordon, and right beside her head was...

Alan.

He'd saved her.

Tears welled in her cerulean eyes.

"Tari," Alan murmured, brushing some of her blonde hair away from her eyes, "How are you feeling?"

Tara didn't dare open her mouth for fear of the pain it would inflict.

"Are you okay, Ra-ra?" Scott asked from the foot of her bed.

"Let her wake up a bit more first," Jeff shot his eldest a look, before turning back to the blonde.

"Who did it to her?" Gordon asked. Alan shook his head.

"I didn't see, but Tara might know,"

Tara wasn't sure she wanted to remember.

"Why isn't she speaking?"

"She just woke up from a week-long coma," Virgil snapped, "You try speaking so soon after that,"

"Boys, please stop bickering," Penelope looked almost as bad as Tara felt, "Parker, go and fetch the doctors, please,"

"Yes, M'Lady,"

Tara parted her lips with minimal pain, swallowed as best as she could and finally tried to speak.

"Ow..."

Alan gave her a fond smile.

"It'll hurt for a while. Are you alright?"

It hurt too much to nod, and she didn't want to risk hurting something else by speaking. So she made a non-committal mewl.

It was then that the doctor bustled in and sent the family out so he could make an assessment of Tara's health.

* * *

  
In the hallway outside her room, the gathered family were having a whispered discussion.

"She needs to talk to someone," Penelope protested, "We need to know what happened. I'm not fool enough to think she'd open up to me about everything. So who will talk to her?"

"I will," Alan volunteered, "Tari and I have always been close. She might open up to me,"

The moment the doctor left, Alan was sent in.

Tara turned to look at him as he entered, now hyped up on painkillers, and let him sit beside her on the bed.

"Okay Tari," Alan sighed, looking down at her, "What happened?"

The blonde teen had to resist the temptation to cry.

"Well," she murmured thickly, tears stinging her eyes, "It all started with Josh..."

* * *

  
"Yes, Lady Penelope. We'll ensure that every visitor for your daughter is checked against this list you've provided. We won't allow anyone who isn't approved by you in,"

"Thank you," Penelope gestured to the list, "Aside from family and family friends, this should cover Tara's school friends. Oh, that name on the bottom, you'll have to forgive me, it's my daughter's boyfriend. I only know him by his first name,"

"It's alright Lady Penelope. We'll do what we can to ensure your daughter's safety,"

* * *

  
Alan sat in silence listening to Tara's tale, feeling his stomach knot more and more in rage for what had happened to the girl.

When she'd finished, he brushed some hair off her face, and Tara smiled softly at him.

"Thanks for coming to rescue me, Alan," she murmured, swallowing with a small wince.

"It's the least I could do, Tara," he replied, tapping her nose, "particularly for the little Ra-ra—" the teen glowered, "—who got revenge on my brothers when they kept throwing me in the pool," Tara chuckled.

"What, you mean the time I poured itching powder in Gordon's sheets, tarred and feathered John, and swapped Scott's aftershave with my mother's perfume?" Alan smirked.

"It was an extraordinary feat for a five year old," the girl giggled.

"They all thought it was you anyway," Alan laughed.

"They did, didn't they?"

A few moments of comfortable silence passed, before Alan stood.

"I should go. You need to—"

"No!" Tara protested, fear suddenly filling her eyes, "Please. Stay? For a little longer?"

Alan blinked.

"Okay, Tari. I'll stay,"

* * *

  
Over the next few days, Alan stayed with Tara most of the time, keeping her company and, most importantly, keeping her talking and laughing.

The doctors were grateful to him – particularly the psychologist, who, when she came to visit, decided Tara wasn't going to retreat into herself and have an emotional breakdown because of his presence.

On the fourth day after Tara awoke, Alan stood from his chair beside her bed and stretched. The two had spent the morning watching Mexican soap operas together, subtitling them where they could, and laughing when they couldn't.

"I'm just going to go to the bathroom, okay? I'll be back in 10 minutes,"

"Alright," Tara sat up slightly, leaning against her pillows, "Don't take too long, otherwise you'll miss out on whether Maria's lover is really a Juan or a Juanita,"

Alan laughed.

"I'll hurry,"

About 5 minutes passed after Alan left, when Tara heard footsteps, and someone entered her room.

"That was fast," she quipped, "Hurry, the adbreak's almost over,"

"Hi Tara,"

The blonde's blood ran cold. She refused to look at her visitor.

"Go away, Josh. We have nothing to say to each other,"

"Tara, I'm sorry. I feel so awful for what I did,"

"Josh, get out,"

"No, Tara, damnit, I'm not leaving. I'm sorry. I... I love you,"

Tears stung Tara's azure eyes. She closed them tight, looking away.

"You don't. Don't lie to me,"

"I do!" he protested, moving to her bedside, "And I promise I'll never hurt you again. Please, Tara, I'm so, so sorry," Josh took her hand, "Look at me,"

What neither of them saw was the annoyed blonde man in the doorway. The annoyed blonde man whose stomach sank when he saw forgiveness warring with self preservation in Tara's eyes.

She couldn't go back to this man. Not after what he'd done to her.

'_Come on, Tara. I thought you were smarter than this. You're not dumb enough to be fooled, yet again, by his promises and declarations...'_

"I..." tears slid in rivulets down her bruised cheeks, "I..."

Alan made his presence known at this point.

He refused to let her do this to herself again.

"Tara?" his voice was dangerously low, "Is this him?"

Cerulean met with icy cornflower blue, and the girl nodded.

With no words spoken, Alan stepped forward, pulled back his arm, and punched the dark haired man beside the hospital bed without remorse.

Tara let out a small shriek, alerting the nurses, while Alan stood over Tara's fallen ex.

"You," he hissed, "You did this to her. How _dare_ you come back here, asking for her to love and forgive you?"

"I didn't do this to her," Josh protested, touching his cheek tenderly where Alan had struck him, "She didn't look like this when she left me,"

"That's not what Tara said,"

"Well, she's lying! She's confused, aren't you Tara darling?"

"I... I..."

"Don't you dare speak to her. Not after what you did!"

"Gentlemen!" the nurse in the doorway fixed the two with her fiercest glare, "If you insist on fighting, do not do it in here!"

Alan hauled Josh up by the collar and shoved him outside.

* * *

  
Josh and Alan circled each other in the carpark, looking much like two lions, prepared to battle.

The moment they were away from Tara, Josh let his true colours shine through.

"You think you know innocent little Tara so well, don't you?" he laughed, "Did you know she's a crack whore? Since we've started dating, she's smoked, gotten drunk, and been the little party whore she is. She's worthless trash,"

"She is not," Alan snarled and punched him again.

* * *

  
Gordon couldn't understand why he'd been roped into going to pick Alan up from the hospital.

Really, he couldn't.

Scott would have made more sense, or even Virgil, and yet it was he who Jeff had sent.

It was an act like that which made Gordon start to wonder if his father was getting a bit... demented in his old age.

Gordon's car pulled into the carpark of the Royal Prince Alfred hospital, and was almost immediately confronted with the sight of his youngest brother pounding the crap out of some guy.

Now, ordinarily, Gordon would have laughed at this sight, however the look of unadulterated rage on Alan's face made him just that slightest bit concerned that Alan had few to no qualms about _killing_ this man.

And so, he pulled into the nearest parking spot and intervened.

"Alan, brother dear," he stood, arms crossed, "Care to explain what the hell you're doing,"

"God, Gordon," Alan spat out some of the blood in his mouth from Josh's last blow, and continued holding the darker haired man in a headlock, "you sound just like Scott,"

"Don't avoid the question (and I'm insulted), what are you doing?"

"I'm beating the shit out of someone," Gordon smirked.

"Yes, _thank you_ Captain Obvious. I got that much. _Why_ are you beating the shit out of this man?"

"Because," Alan growled, shoving Josh back, "This piece of shit is the reason Tara's in here. Gordon, that's Tara's _ex_-boyfriend, Joshua McMahon. He beat up Tara when she didn't get his next fix,"

The smile dropped off Gordon's face faster than you can stay "stone cold".

"Step away from him, little brother," the auburn haired Tracy's voice had dropped dangerously low.

"What? But—"

"Step _away_ from him, Alan," Alan looked bemused, but complied.

Josh rubbed his jaw and looked up at Gordon.

"Hey, thank—" he didn't get to finish. Gordon's fist connected with his face, and knocking him down to the ground.

"What the hell? You're all insane!" Josh spoke thickly, touching a hand to his bleeding split lip.

Gordon was terrifying in his rage.

"Stay the hell away from Tara. I don't want to see you anywhere near her, ever again, do you understand me?" he hauled the darker man to his feet by his collar, "Because, lets get this straight right now, you _dare_ to lay even a _finger_ on Ra-ra again, and I'll personally make sure they don't find the body," he shoved him backwards, "Get the hell out of my sight,"

The two brothers watched Tara's ex boyfriend stumble out of the carpark and, symbolically, out of Tara's life.

Gordon let out a long, slow breath and turned to Alan.

"You'd better get yourself checked out in the hospital. I'll go and see Ra-ra,"

* * *

  
When Alan got back to Tara's room an hour later, the blonde was nervously chewing the uninjured part of her lower lip.

Her eyes snapped to the door with his re-entry, and the relief was obvious on her face.

"Is everything...?"

"Everything's fine, Tari," he reassured her, "He won't bother you again,"

Tara slumped back into her pillows and smiled weakly at him. Alan grinned back.

The injuries – everything was worth it.

All for her.

* * *

  
_**a/n**__ Again. __**Flavour**__. Go check them out. __**Super special awesome**__._


	10. Sooner or Later

_**a/n**__ Reworked 3__rd__ January, 2009. Is also on the floor from listening to far too much of her newest favourite song, "Broken", by... "Bobby Dupea"._

_...goddamnit, he's an amazing musician. :contented moan:_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 10** – Sooner or Later

* * *

Gordon beamed, wrapping his arms around Tin-tin's petite waist, eliciting a giggle from the Asian girl.

"Gordon," she murmured, leaning in and snatching a kiss from her secret lover, "We need to be careful. We still haven't told Alan, and we both know no matter how much we explain that he and I were finished, he's going to take this personally,"

"He does that," Gordon leaned his head against Tin-tin's chest and closed his eyes, "But I'm really not in the mood for our bloody murder,"

The girl sighed.

"Why must he overreact?"

"The term's "drama queen", love,"

"Gee, Gordon, and letting him hear _that_'s going to go down _really_ well,"

"I speak only the truth. My brother is a complete drama queen,"

"Charming,"

"No, darling, that one's me," Tin-tin playfully slapped the auburn haired boy upside the head, but his protest was swallowed by the soft lips covering his.

.1.1.

"So, any fresh young ladies caught your eye?" Tara asked, shifting in her bed to face Alan better. The blonde boy laughed, shaking his head.

"No-one, Tari,"

"Really? You and your brothers are quite the sex symbols among my friends," Alan arched a brow, drawing a giggle from the injured girl. She went on:

"Well, Jenny's got a..._thing_ for Scott, whilst Amber has this obsession for Virgil, Charlotte's hot for Gordon, and for really no conceivable reason, Ophelia's developed a crush on John,"

"Oh. No fangirls for me?_" _Tara let out a small laugh, bringing a smile to Alan's face.

"I'll be your fangirl, Al. But I draw the line at screaming at the TV when rare footage of International Rescue crops up, like the other week," she nudged his arm, making him chuckle in response.

Then what she said actually sank in.

"Footage? When?"

"Back when I was still at school… a couple of weeks, maybe? It was a ship that'd gone down. We watched the rescue on a news report. My entire house went insane and were practically glued to the television,"

"A news report?"

"Yeah. I'd assumed Scott had loosened up and let them film you guys for once,"

Alan's brow creased.

"So let me get this straight. You saw _live footage_ of a rescue on a _news report_. Live footage of us, and of the Thunderbirds," Tara's brow arched.

"Yes. And I'm going to assume from that tone that this is a _bad_ thing?"

Alan took out his watch and placed a call.

.1.1.

Scott was lying on his bed, absently flicking through a magazine when his watch began beeping. Lazily, he reached over to his nightstand and picked up the clock.

"Alan? What's—"

"_Check the ACD,"_

"What?"

"_Tara saw live footage of us on a news report. __Check the ACD__,"_

.1.1.

The eldest Tracy son swore.

Loudly.

And repeatedly.

He returned Alan's call.

"It's malfunctioning, alright. And it's not the only thing. The HCD's on the brink, the engines are in dire need of a service and the fuel injectors'--! _Christ_, how did Tin-tin let this happen?"

"_Slacking off reading fashion magazines instead of doing her job?"_

"May—" Scott stopped abruptly, looking down at his youngest brother's face, "Alan, that's rather bitter of you,"

The blonde man shrugged.

"_It could be true for all we know. She fucked up the systems check, evidently, so she was doing something else. Probably something selfish like she does,"_

"Real mature, Alan,"

"_What? Why am I getting attacked when SHE was the one who fu—"_

"Language,"

"—_cked up? Christ, I'll never get you all,"_

Scott met a blank screen.

.1.1.

Alan hung up and turned to face the blonde girl, who crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow.

"What?"

"I thought you weren't mad at Tin-tin...?" Alan raked his fingers through his hair.

"I'm... not? Not really," the eyebrow crept higher.

"Just a little residual bitterness, huh?" he shot her a weak smile.

"Bound to be some, right? We kind-of parted amicably, but..."

"But breakups suck, I get it," she settled back into her pillows, "What did Scott have to say?"

There was a short bark of laughter.

"Don't even _try_ to pretend you weren't listening in on that conversation, Tara Belle," azure eyes glittered innocently as the teen looked up, an angelic grin dancing over her lips.

"Me? _Never_," Alan opened his mouth to respond when his watch went off once more. He let out a frustrated groan and answered it.

Jeff's stern face greeted him.

"_Alan, I'm calling an emergency meeting. Return home immediately,"_

"Yes Father," the connection broke and the youngest Tracy rose with the immediacy borne only from being raised in a household which instilled military discipline in its sons.

"I've—"

"It's okay," Tara shifted slightly, finding a more comfortable position in her pillows, "Go. Just... try not to be so hard on her. I'm sure Tin-tin has a reason – let her justify herself first,"

"I know," he rolled his eyes slightly, "Innocent until proven guilty. God, you Brits are so determined in your human rights," Tara laughed warmly.

"Us Brits?" she spoke with mock offence, "It's in _your_ sodding constitution, you bloody yank!"

Chuckling, Alan leaned down to wrap his arms gently around Tara's lithe form.

"Stay safe, Tari," he muttered into her sweet smelling blonde hair. She smiled softly, returning the embrace.

"You too, Alan,"

He disentangled himself and left her staring after him with an almost wistful curl to her cracked, healing lips.

.1.1.

Jeff dragged a hand down his face.

"Once more for posterity, boys. Someone has footage of an International Rescue operation, am I correct?"

"Yes, father,"

"And Alan," he turned to his youngest, "You believe the fault for this lies at Tin-tin's feet?"

"Yes, father,"

"Because when you ran a diagnostics check, Scott, there were serious malfunctions that Tin-tin seems to have missed in her daily examinations of the ships?"

"Yes, father,'

"Do you believe she may be ignoring her duties, or just distracted from them to notice something serious?"

There was no response, making Jeff's gaze dart from son to son.

Scott and Virgil, the most well trained of his sons, were seated rigidly by their father's desk. Alan was sprawled in a chair nearby, smirking almost contentedly. Then there came his second youngest son, Gordon. Gordon had chosen to sit on the piano stool and was fixedly staring at the closed cover of the baby grand.

Of all of them, Gordon looked the most suspicious.

"Gordon? Any ideas?"

Gordon seemed stunned from his reflections and his gaze flickered to his father. There seemed to be a terrified horror reflected in their depths. However, before he could question it, Tin-tin knocked on the office door.

"Mr. Tracy? You wanted to see me?"

There was the distinct feeling of walking into the lions den.

.1.1.

"Tin-tin, unless you have a reasonable explanation of why this happened, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to seriously reprimand you,"

The dark haired woman swallowed hard and she looked down.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tracy, I got distracted and I shouldn't have let it happen,"

"Distracted? Tin-tin, what could have possibly distracted you so much that you couldn't carry out your designated work?"

Tin-tin's gaze slid to the auburn haired man seated at the piano.

Without word or warning, he began smacking his forehead against the instrument.

"_HEY!"_ Virgil leapt from his seat, crossing the room faster than any would have thought possible, catching Gordon's forehead before it could smack into the piano lid one more time and shoved it back, "Whatever's wrong with you, _don't_ you dare take it out on my piano!"

(Absently, Scott noted how Virgil seemed to care more for the inanimate piano than for the health and safety of his brother.

..._musicians._)

Tin-tin hazarded a glance at Alan.

The youngest Tracy's face drained of colour.

"_No_..." he murmured, cornflower blue eyes darting between his brother and former girlfriend, "_No_,"

Tears welled in Tin-tin's burnt sienna eyes.

"I'm sorry, Alan..." she whispered hoarsely as he swallowed hard, his fingers curling into fists in a vain attempt to control his volatile temper.

"You left me for my _brother_?" his voice was dropping, turning more and more into a savage, violent snarl, "You cheating_ bitch_!" his narrowed eyes took in his elder brother, "And _you!_ My own _brother_. You do this to me, and I'm expected to trust you with my life?"

"Alan, please, it's now how it—"

"_Fuck you!_" he roared, lunging from his chair and storming out of the room, he slammed the door behind him.

The silence left in his wake was almost deafening.

Tears streamed down Tin-tin's cocoa cheeks, her eyes bright in her pain.

"I think an explanation is needed, you two," Jeff's voice cut smoothly through the silence, "Which of you would like to begin?"

.1.1.

Tara was lying in her hospital bed, counting the ceiling tiles for what seemed like the millionth time when her (rather attractive) doctor, Dr. Daniel Gale(1) strode into the room, removing his pen from the pocket of his lab coat.

"Good morning, Miss. Creighton-Ward. How are you feeling today?"

"'morning, Doctor Gale, and better. I'm really bored, though. When do you think I'll be able to leave?"

Dr. Gale flicked through Tara's charts, his brow furrowing. He absently scratched his chiseled jaw with his pen.

"From what it says here, it looks like you've only got a few sprains and bruises that are a particular major concern," sea green eyes flickered up in amusement, "Your condition just looks a lot worse than it is,"

Tara let out a small sigh of relief.

"So maybe I'll be free soon?"

"Perhaps. The internal bruising it's a concern, so don't get your hopes up for immediate release, and you're going to require some physical therapy to get your limbs back in proper working order," he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and slid her chart back into the pocket at the end of her bed, "It's still a bit of a trek to go before you're completely healed up,"

Dr. Gale moved to stand beside her and took Tara's bandaged wrist in his gentle grasp. Tara watched his long fingers gently probe her injured flesh, and absently noted how similar his hands were to hers – they were musician's hands.

"As for your boredom," he spoke again, releasing her wrist and shooting her a grin, running his hands through his mop of dark hair, "I hear a friend of yours has organised to have your school work delivered to you in order to keep you "occupied and up to date,"," he let out a deep chuckle, "She seemed rather persistent,"

Tara rolled her azure eyes.

"That would be Jenny. And I think the word you're searching for is "insane"," again, Doctor Gale laughed, before he sobered up and sighed.

"Miss. Creighton Ward, we're also going to send someone down here to speak with you – Doctor Henderson. Dr. Henderson is our resident psychiatrist," the girl's eyebrows shot up.

"Why? I'm not nuts,"

"We never said you were," he soothed, "But it is hospital practice to send someone down to speak to a patient who has been through what you have. We would just like you to speak with her and have her evaluate your state of mind,"

"I'm _fine_, Dr. Gale,"

"I'm sure you are," he stepped back, "But we need to have Doctor Henderson just back up that opinion, or maybe suggest some medication that might help you, should you need it,"

"Medication," she sat up slightly, "What, like antidepressants or something?" Dr. Gale shrugged noncommittally.

"Perhaps, Miss. Creighton Ward. Nothing is certain until you speak with her, and even then, there are alternative treatments should she see that you need something," he took another step towards the door, "Dr. Henderson should be down to see you either later today or early tomorrow, and I'll come back for a check up this afternoon. I'll have a nurse send in your school work?"

Tara slumped into her pillows.

"Sure. I'm sure pretending I care about planaria for a few hours with assuage my boredom,"

Dr. Gale laughed and left the room.

* * *

_**a/n**__ It must be said. I've OFFICIALLY finished high school, AND I'm pretty much guaranteed a place in my intended university course with my University Admissions Index. At the moment? I'm full of win. Excuse me whilst I slump back into my own pillows and grin._

_Secondly, I hope you all had a fantastic holiday season, and a great start to the New Year!!_

_Welcome to 2009, the year I promise I will finally, FINALLY, get this story finished._

_Much love,_

_xx the Flame Faerie_

_

* * *

_

(1) _I doubt many of you would have seen the movie I kindoftotally stole the name and looks of Daniel Gale from. And to those of you who do... oh, come on. Like you can even __try__ to fault me there._

_Here's a hint: Daniel Gale (is greater than) the actor's newest character. Probably because he actually seemed to give a damn about Daniel unlike the new guy. Also I have a thing for adorkable men. _

_But remember Dr. Gale. He's going to come back for a few visits in the future..._


	11. Yesterday

_**a/n**__ Reworked 4__th__ January. And yes, those are my actual notes in there. I wept too._

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 11 – **Yesterday

* * *

_Planaria have simple light receptors. These are patches of light sensitive cells in a concave cup and are used to distinguish light from dark. The walls of the cup (ocelli) contain pigments, prohibiting light penetration from three sites. Depending on the angle of the incoming light, shadows fall onto the photosensitive structures. The photoreceptors are rhabdomeric._

Tara stared blankly at the biology worksheet and almost felt the need to weep.

Really, it was never like she was going to _need_ to know _anything_ about the damn flatworms beyond _now_, anyway.

There was a knock at the door, and she glanced over.

A pretty young female doctor, blonde, grey eyed and smiling, entered the room.

"Good afternoon, Miss. Creighton Ward," she shut the door behind her, "I'm Dr. Selena Henderson – I believe Dr. Gale told you I was coming down to check up on you?" Tara nodded slowly. The woman shot her a warm grin and took a seat beside Tara's bed, withdrawing a notepad and pen, "Excellent. Mind if we have a bit of a chat, then?"

The teen almost gratefully tucked her work back into her satchel and sank back into her pillows.

"Thank you. You're helping me delay learning about flatworms,"

Dr. Henderson pulled a face.

"They're... Oh, I hated them in school. The entire optics units were just..." she shuddered, and a laugh bubbled forth from Tara's lips. The pretty young doctor beamed, crossing her legs and leaning forward slightly.

"So, Tara, tell me about school,"

.1.1.

Tara was slipping into a light nap when Dr. Henderson finally took her leave, and moments after leaving the hospital room, the blonde was stopped by Dr. Daniel Gale.

"What did you think?"

Selena sighed, grinding a palm into one eye before answering.

"Tara seems like a fairly normal, cheerful girl, but I'm not sure she's as unaffected by all of this as she tries to convince us. I'd _like_ to see her more regularly as a patient, but I don't think either she or her mother would support that decision, from what she's said,"

"Do you think she's a danger to herself?"

"Not yet, but there is a possibility she might be," grey eyes flickered up to sea green, "She's been seriously hurt, Daniel. By a man she thought she loved. And whilst she's not comfortable with opening up about this now, I do think she needs to sometime, otherwise this isn't going to end well,"

Daniel nodded, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip.

"I'll speak to her mother,"

"Thank you," Selena flashed him a small smile and slid past him.

.1.1.

The next morning, Doctor Gale entered to complete his daily check up on the young teen, and was pleasantly surprised to find her mother seated beside the girl's bed, the butler standing at the foot of her bed, almost as though keeping watch on the two Creighton-Ward women.

"Morning, Miss. Creighton-Ward, Lady Creighton-Ward," he greeted warmly, nodding at the butler who returned his greeting with a slight incline of his head.

"Good morning, Dr. Gale," Lady Penelope rose from her seat, "How soon do you think my daughter can be released?"

"Hopefully soon enough, Lady Penelope. We're going to begin Tara on physical therapy soon for her broken and sprained limbs, and it looks as though the bruising is healing up nicely. She should be out within the month,"

"Excellent," her gaze slid to her daughter, "You should be back in school in no time,"

Tara gave her mother a pained smile.

"Fantastic," she mumbled, shifting slightly on her pillows, her gaze sliding away to the window.

Doctor Gale caught something that briefly flickered over Tara's features, but as he tried to contemplate the look, it was gone.

But it was enough – he'd seen what Selena Henderson had meant.

"Has Doctor Henderson been in to speak to you both?" he asked, sliding the chart back into its stand on the end of the bed.

Tara turned back to face him.

"Both of us? No. She's only come to see me,"

Lady Penelope looked as though this was news to her.

"Why would she need to?" she questioned politely, "There's nothing wrong with Tara, other than the obvious physical detriments,"

"It's standard procedure for assault victims," Doctor Gale soothed, "We just like to make sure that they're alright, and occasionally offer counselling if it looks as though a patient is taking on blame for the event, or even help if it looks as though a patient may develop, or has already begun developing post traumatic stress syndrome,"

Penelope fixed him with a tight, polite smile.

"Tara is fine, Doctor Gale. It would be best for my daughter to get back to normal and to get on with her life," she clasped Tara's nearest hand in her own, "I don't want my daughter to have to dwell on this event and suffer,"

The teen shot her mother a weak smile and leaned back, closing her eyes.

"Is this what you want, Tara?" Doctor Gale ventured, ignoring the affronted look from the aristocrat. Tara nodded.

"I want to move on, Doctor Gale,"

Mouth pursed, he nodded.

"Alright," he stepped back from the blonde's bed, "I'll be back later this afternoon to check up on you. Doctor Hansen should be in soon to talk to you about your physical therapy sessions,"

As he left, Penelope was murmuring something to her daughter. He sighed, and walked into the hall.

.1.1.

..._A month later..._

Tara sighed, hauling her bag off her bed and slinging it over her shoulder. She had been released from hospital two days prior, and, after a night at the Creighton-Ward manor, was finally returning to school.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" the teenager turned to find her mother standing, almost anxious, in the doorway. She shot her a reassuring smile.

"Yes, Mother," she turned to pluck her watch from her dresser with nimble fingers, buckling the leather cuff around her slim wrist, "I just want to get my life back together. Back to normal,"

Lady Penelope nodded.

"Parker's bringing the car around," she said, her hands smoothing the pink tweed of her suit skirt, "We shall be leaving in five minutes,"

"Thanks, Mother," Penelope excused herself from the room, and the girl repositioned her bag on her shoulder, before sweeping from the room and out to the rolls, were Parker stood, waiting with the back door open.

He took her bag, and she thanked him quietly, sliding into the car beside her mother.

"Off, M'lady?" Parker asked as he slipped into his own seat.

"The Academy, Parker,"

"Yes, M'lady,"

Tara settled back into her seat with a small sigh.

She was finally returning to Thorntree.

Maybe now things could _finally_ go back to normal.

.1.1.

Tara watched Fab 1 as it pulled away from the academy, sighing as it headed down the long drive to the front gate and the world beyond.

"_Well_," drawled a voice from behind the blonde, "_You_ certainly took your sweet time coming back,"

A small smirk tugged at the teen's lips.

"Well, what can I say?" she replied lazily, "I didn't want to have to see all your hideous faces every day,"

She turned and took in the beaming faces of her group. Then, with little warning, Jenny, Charlotte, Amber and Ophelia all engulfed her in a huge hug.

"God, we missed your ugly mug," Charlotte murmured, making Tara let out a small bark of laughter.

"_My_ ugly mug? Bite your tongue, Ms. Silva,"

"C'mon," Amber stood back slightly, tugging on Tara's arm, "Let's take you in and get you unpacked so I can tell you about Alex!"

"Alex?" Tara's eyebrow arched, "_Who_?"

As Amber opened her mouth to respond, Ophelia cut in smoothly, "Alexander Northman,"

"A 6th former over at Rowan Grammar," Jenny added in a mocking tone.

"He's _sooo_ dreamy," Charlotte finished, "With his sexy long blond hair, bright blue eyes and arms _made of sex_,"

"Shut up!" Amber exclaimed, flushing pink, "I don't sound like that!"

"Do," Ophelia countered, "And we've heard about _Alexander_ at least once a day since you two made eye sex at each other in the last social debate," the girl's dark eyes flickered to Tara, "We got killed, by the way. Mary-Sue's a completely shithouse third,"

Tara's eyebrows arched in surprise.

"I'm away, so you get _Mary Sue_ to take over my position? Christ, 'Phel. What was the topic?"

"Something about euthanasia. Legalizing it or whatever," the blonde groaned.

"What absolute sh—"

"_Hi,"_ Amber waved her arms, "Pay attention to me,"

Without missing a beat, Ophelia responded, "No," she turned back to her recently returned blonde friend, "We wanted to try to get that 6th former, Jessica Sturridge, but she was too busy with exams or something. So we had to dip into the reserves, and thus, Mary-Sue,"

"Hellfire and damnat—"

"_YOU GUYS SUCK_," Amber hollered, silencing the two conversing girls. Charlotte and Jenny couldn't help but snicker.

That is, until they all heard the tell-tale click of the headmistress' heels on the flagstone.

"WHAT IS THIS COMMOTION?" Thickett bellowed, looking so much like an angry tomato, what with her round body stuffed in a black pencil skirt and strontium scarlet blouse. Tara bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

Her beady little eyes narrowed, the headmistress scanned the group, and her cold gaze found the recently returned blonde, dressed in casual clothing.

"Miss. Creighton-Ward," she hissed, "I should have known the moment you returned after that "rescue" in the summer school that you'd start some kind of disturbance. Detention, tonight in the dining hall after the evening meal,"

Tara paled. Ordinarily, a detention wouldn't phase her but—

'_Oh utter bollocks. I've just tied with the school record of detentions. Thickett made it quite clear that act would end me. I'm doomed_,'

She had to strongly resist the temptation to shout out a particularly loud expletive then and there.

The thought of another detention for that made her stomach turn.

"—and because of this," it seemed the headmistress had continued ranting as Tara contemplated her own downfall, "Come with me, Miss. Creighton-Ward. Your mother must be informed,"

_Oh epic hellfire and damnation_.

.1.1.

"There's no answer at home, Headmistress," Tara spoke in honeyed tones, trying not to let her inner battle of politeness vs. the repeated and loud use of the word "fuck" show on her face, "I guess we'll just have to try again later,"

"Oh no," Thickett sneered, "Your mother specified that if she could not be contacted, a… Mr. Tracy was to act as your guardian,"

The thought of Jeff's reaction made her insides twist into knots. Jeff Tracy ruled his own sons with an iron fist in cases like this. It seemed no matter who she contacted, they would end her.

"Is there a problem, Miss. Creighton-Ward?" a doomed expression must have shown on Tara's face, because Thickett seemed to be suddenly filled with glee.

"No," the blonde muttered, sighing, "I'll try the Tracys,"

She dialled the island and waited.

A few rings later, someone picked up the voice call.

"_Hello?_"

At the sound of Alan's voice, something sparked in Tara's brain.

Alan _Tracy_. Mr. _Tracy_.

And most importantly: _a way out __alive_.

"Hi _Uncle_ Alan, my most favourite _uncle_," Tara tried to sound defeated, "_Uncle_ Alan, I'm really sorry, _Uncle_ Alan, but my headmistress needs to speak with you, _Uncle_ Alan, because we can't get in touch with Mum. _Uncle_,"

From his end, Alan wondered if maybe Tara was drunk.

"_Uh, sure Tara... put her on_...?"

Tara handed over the receiver and looked down to hide her grin.

"Hello, Mr. Tracy, I'm Emmaline Thickett, Headmistress of Thorntree Academy. You've been nominated as the guardian of Tara Creighton-Ward whilst her mother is in absentia, and as such, I'm contacting you to inform you of your ward Tara's poor behaviour.

"Tara has been such a delinquent at Thorntree that she has now tied with the school's record of detentions and will, no doubt, surpass this disciplinary yard stick and continue to misbehave.

"In previous situations such as these, after conferencing with the parent and/or guardian of the child in question, we have suspended the child for two weeks in an in-school suspension, or even expelled the child, if the parent and/or guardian believed it prudent. As Tara's nominated guardian, the choice is up to you – what punishment to you wish upon your ward?"

On Alan's end, the pieces suddenly fell into place.

He bit back laughter. Tara was most certainly crafty.

"_That little delinquent did what?"_ he barked into the phone, his voice as stern as he could feign it, _"Don't do a thing, Headmistress. I'll deal with that brat the next time I see her, and you can rest assured I'll inform her mother. I'm sure the winter break will find Tara Belle learning a lesson she won't soon forget,"_

Tara tried not to giggle as she watched Thickett's face fall.

The headmistress rung off, and turned to the blonde teen, all but openly snarling.

"You may have escaped suspension this time, _Miss_. Creighton-Ward," she spat, "But don't for a moment think I'm letting you off easy," she leaned in closer, "And we are having thorough investigations done of the summer school explosion in which you so _heroically_ rescued your fellow students. If I find anything that even suggests _you_ set that explosion, which I so highly suspect, you will be out of here faster than you can say "juvenile delinquent"."

Tara's fingers curled to tight fists, and she tried not to show any outward sign of her complete hatred of the woman before her.

The headmistress stood tall once more and coldly dismissed Tara, before striding from the administration office and into her own.

.1.1.

"HOLY CRAP," Amber stormed into the 5th form Draconis dorm, "Alexander speaks _Swedish,"_

"... and?" Tara asked, not looking up from perusing her chemistry textbook as she lay upon her bed on her stomach, "We're waiting for the punchline,"

"No punchline," Amber flopped on her bed, sighing dreamily. Charlotte snorted.

"Well, that's a pretty crap joke then," she said snarkily, buffing her nails, "I mean, how is that even funny?"

Amber's brow furrowed.

"It's not a joke," she spoke slowly, "It's true. Alex speaks Swedish. Can he get any more perfect?"

"Probably," Ophelia muttered from under the pillow over her face, "And I bet we'll hear all about it too,"

Amber looked wounded for a moment.

"Do you guys really hate hearing about Alexander?"

"Ams," Tara looked up and over at the girl, "It's not that we hate hearing about your love life, but... Well, we hear the same thing. A lot,"

"Plus," Jenny added, "It really only reminds us about our own sucky love lives. I mean, Ophelia's last relationship ended in flaming ruins; Charlotte's last boyfriend broke up with her because she's 17 and he was 22; I can't _find_ a boy who looks past my boobs, and Tara's last boyfriend was a drug addict who beat the shit out of her because she wouldn't buy him any more drugs. Thus, we rejects don't really want to hear about your puppy love with Alexander,"

A pillow struck the brunette.

"Tactful, Jen," Ophelia sat up, "Now pass me back my pillow so I can smother myself before Theory of Knowledge,"

Tara tried to ignore the sharp sting in her heart.

_Reject_.

Thanks, Jennifer.

.1.1.

That night, Tara lay awake in her bed, staring at the black abyss before her that was the dark room at night.

Her mind couldn't help but turn over everything that had happened.

_Reject_

"_I love you Tara, you love me don't you?"_

"_More than anything,"_

"_Then you'll go and buy me my pipe stuffing?"_

"_Of course, Josh!"_

_Blood. Pain. Ripping, tearing, kicking..._

"_Josh, Alice says she saw you with a girl at the bar the other night..."_

"_Alice is a liar,"_

"_She's one of my friends though. Why would she lie to me?"_

"_Tara, I didn't want to tell you this, but Alice tried to come onto me the other day. I told her no, that you're my girl, and she got really mad. This is just her getting revenge,"_

"_I'm your girl?"_

"_Of course you are,"_

"_YOU LITTLE BITCH!"_

"_Please, n--!"_

"_Don't open your mouth, you fuckin' slut. You're not worthy to breathe my air!"_

Tara closed her eyes and turned away, feeling the tears sting her eyes, and biting her lip to stop the trembling.

She hugged her knees to her chest, trying to stop the shaking.

_God_, she was such an idiot.

He'd lied to her time and time again, and she'd listened to him because he'd told her he loved her.

She'd alienated friends because of him.

God, she was so _fucking_ stupid.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she was such an idiot that all she deserved was someone who beat her.

Maybe that was the best she could hope for.

Maybe she was the worthless, useless trash he'd told her.

Tara swallowed thickly and hugged her knees closer.

_Maybe she'd deserved it, after all_.

_Reject_.

* * *


	12. Once I Was

_**a/n**__ Reworked 23__rd__ February, 2009_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 12** – Once I Was

* * *

Alan leaned against the armrest of the sofa, eyes glued to the TV screen.

"_Brooke, no! You're marrying James!"_

"_I don't care, Angus! Take me! I'm yours!"_

"God, Brooke is such a two-timing slut," the blond murmured, before catching himself.

He pulled a pained face.

"I'm getting into a soap opera," he murmured, "A _bad_ soap opera,"

He sighed, switching off the TV and heading towards the stairs.

"I need air," he decided aloud, "I'm going for a run,"

.1.1.

"... So that is the situation. Each of you has been given a slip of paper, and you're to write the name of a student you wish to nominate for School Captain, and have another student second your nomination. The prefect body will count the votes and announce who will be presenting their speeches. The staff has no influence over the final decision of your prefect body, but we recommend you think carefully and pick someone trustworthy, responsible, intelligent and befitting the position..." the headmistress' eyes fell on the straight-backed Mary-Sue Pleasant, seated in the front row.

At the back of the hall, Tara glowered.

Nobody in the cohort missed how the headmistress glowered back.

The fact Tara held her own, and that it was Thickett who sniffed haughtily and left the room first, flippantly throwing a detention at the blonde was not missed either.

In the woman's wake, voting forms were handed out, and a low buzz of conversation passed through the seniors.

Tara scrunched up her voting sheet and pegged it at the back of Mary-Sue Pleasant's head, then looked away, feigning innocence.

"So I'm going to enjoy my free," she stood, "anyone coming?"

"We've got to vote," Jenny replied, withdrawing a pen from her bag, "You included,"

"Please," the blonde scoffed, "If I did what Thickett wanted, it would be going against my morals. It'd be betrayal of everything I believe. It'd be like becoming a—"

"We get it, drama queen," Ophelia kicked Tara's behind lightly with the side of her foot, "Sod off,"

She shot the girl a grin and left.

Amber and Charlotte watched her leave with twin devious grins.

Then, they both turned to their slips.

**Candidate:** _Tara Creighton Ward_

**House:**_ Draconis_

**Nominator:** _Amber Lam_

**Seconded:**_ Charlotte Silva_

The near-identical forms were exchanged and signed, Amber in her large, looping and curling handwriting, Charlotte in her chicken scratch scrawl, before they folded them and jammed them in the box.

"Tara will kill you," Jenny pointed out as they returned. The Asian girl snickered.

"No reason for her to find out,"

"Besides," Charlotte added seriously, "Tara's a good leader. Insane, yes, completely random, yes, often daft, hell yes, but she's trustworthy, responsible, fairly intelligent, and a hard worker. Even you've got to admit she's fairly perfect for the position, Jen,"

Jenny opened her mouth to protest, but closed it when she realised she couldn't retort.

She turned to Ophelia.

"Second my nomination for Tara?"

"Bitch, please," the curly haired ravenette responded, "Only if you second mine,"

.1.1.

That night, Jenny came sprinting down from the office, grabbing a hold of Amber and Charlotte in the atrium before Artemis Hall.

"They've just produced the final list of nominees for school captaincy," she murmured. Amber's eyebrows arched.

"And?" she pressed, "Obviously something big has happened, otherwise you wouldn't have run here like the hounds of hell themselves were chasing you,"

"I'm getting to that!" Jenny sniped, "It seems _we_ aren't the only ones who nominated Tara," Charlotte had to smother a laugh.

"Dare we ask how high she was on the list?"

"_First_,"

"Somewhat makes sense, I guess," Amber shrugged, "The year isn't exactly _fond_ of Thickett, and the promised entertainment value from Tara being head girl is just too good to pass up,"

"Yes, but it means Tara will now have to give a _speech_ to be eligible for election. She'll _never_ give a speech for this,"

"No, she won't," Charlotte responded matter-of-factly, "but _we_ will,"

"What?"

"Think about it. Tara will skip out on the speeches, because it'd be too tempting to whip crap at Mary-Sue whilst she was a sitting duck on stage. We sent Ophelia out with her, and we'll give the speech in Tara's place,"

Jenny groaned.

"God, what if she gets elected? If she ever finds out we did it, she'll _kill_ us,"

"_Murder my friends?_" came a drawl from behind them, "Does Tara Creighton-Ward have to choke-a-bitch?"

The small brunette that was Jenny froze, eyes almost comically wide. She turned slowly, hoping that she was just hearing voices.

No such luck

Sure enough, leaning lazily against the doorway of the dining hall was Tara.

No-one spoke.

"Well?" Tara pressed, "Who's going to murder you?"

"Ah... Mary-Sue," Charlotte invented, "We're going to screw with her captaincy campaign,"

"Yeah!" Amber jumped in, almost overly-animated, "We're going to try to rig it so she loses,"

Tara straightened and laughed.

"Yeah, she'll certainly slaughter you for that," she walked past them, "See you later,"

Slumping against each other in relief, the three girls wandered into Artemis Hall and slid into their seats by Ophelia on the Draconis table.

"Hey," the curly haired ravenette greeted, "You guys seen Tara?"

"Yeah," Amber replied, helping herself to the potatoes, "She was just outside. Why?"

"She hasn't come in yet for dinner. I wondered if something had happened to her. She coming in?"

"Didn't look like it," Charlotte responded between mouthfuls of pasta, "She headed outside after we spoke,"

Ophelia's brow furrowed.

"That's... um... odd," she scratched her nose, "Normally Tara eats like a horse,"

.1.1.

Tara heaved a sigh, hands slid up the sleeves of her jumper as she wandered the school grounds at twilight.

She eventually stopped by the school lake, sitting on the grassy slope that gently inclined towards the water body.

She couldn't stop the tear that slid down her cheek.

Drawing her knees to her chest, she pressed her face into them and shuddered in her weeping.

She felt hopeless. Useless. Worthless.

_God, he was right_.

.1.1.

"_Okay, has everyone got what they're going to do?"_

"She'll never suspect a thing!"

"_Shh! Amber, do you __want__ to wake Tara up?"_

"_No..."_

"Too late," the blonde groaned, rolling over in her bed, "Why are you all whispering? What are you planning?"

"We didn't want to wake you," Jenny replied, somewhat resembling a deer in the headlights, "And we've got our plan to screw with Mary Sue today,"

"Oh yeah?" Tara yawned, brushing the blonde hair out of her cerulean eyes, "What am I doing?"

"Keeping watch with me," Ophelia bounced over, "We get to hang on the field, keeping an eye out for Thickett,"

"Okay," the teen sat up slowly and stretched, before sliding her feet into her slippers and turning to pull up her covers.

Amber watched incredulously.

"Okay? That's it? You're not going to ask what we're doing?"

"Nope," Tara gathered her toiletries and the uniform she had slung over the chair at the foot of her bed, "That way I'm not lying when I get inevitably hauled into detention for it. Moral high ground and all that,"

She slid into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

Four girls watched, slack jawed, in her wake.

.1.1.

"... _And so_, in conclusion, you should vote for me, Mary Sue Pleasant, to be your head girl. I'm smart, reliable and fun, which is just what the headmistress ordered. Remember, if she could vote, Headmistress Thickett would vote for me!"

"_The saddest part is_," Charlotte murmured, leaning over to Amber, "_she says that, genuinely thinking it's a __good__ thing_,"

Amber smothered a giggle and nodded.

"Alright," the outgoing Head Girl, Jade Kingsley, stood behind the lectern, scanning the lists before her, "Next up, we've got Tara Creighton-Ward,"

Taking their cue, Jenny, Charlotte and Amber rose and assembled themselves behind the microphone.

"Obviously, we're _not_ Tara Creighton-Ward," Jenny opened, "I'm Jennifer James, this is Amber Lam and Charlotte DeSilva. We're Tara's closest friends, and in the interests of keeping this fair, we're now going to tell you all in the most non-biased fashion we can manage, why Tara would be a better choice for your votes," the brunette stepped aside, and let the Asian Amber take her place.

"Now, all of you would remember a few months ago the massive "Thorntree disaster", where our summer school blew up from planted explosives?" there was a murmur in the crowd, "Well, what a lot of you might not be aware of is that just before the explosion, Charlotte and I went into the school. Needless to say, we got trapped upstairs in the fire," Amber closed her eyes, remembering the roar of the fire and the fear she'd felt, "Tara risked her life to come in and save us, for no reason other than the fact she cared. She could have easily waited for International Rescue, but instead she ran in after us, and it's because of _her_ that Charlotte and I can stand here before you today.

"That's the kind of person Tara is. Stubborn and determined; caring and self-sacrificing. And in tense and scary situations like that, she can keep a cool head and work through it to a solution,"

"Not to mention," Charlotte piped up, "Tara knows the school better than most of these other candidates. She's dealt with both the good and bad. Don't believe me? Well, everyone's heard of the detentions record set 20 years ago by the legendary delinquent who stole and hid the school's crest? Three days ago, Tara broke even with this record. Yesterday, she set a new one. Why? Because the headmistress doesn't like her. But isn't this a _good_ thing? Consider it – the headmistress dislikes people with _character_!"

There were a few titters around the hall. Jenny took the lectern once more.

"Tara has every quality that you'd want in a Head Girl. She's intelligent, though sometimes you wouldn't believe it, hard working, stubborn as hell, incredibly loyal and ridiculously determined. So when it comes time to elect your Head Girl, think _Tara Creighton-Ward_. You won't be disappointed,"

"Besides," Amber threw in, "the promised entertainment value of Tara as our School Captain is just too good to pass up!"

They descended from the stage amidst applause and cheering. Laughing, the three girls left the hall and headed out to Ophelia and Tara on the field.

.1.1.

Tin-tin peered around her bedroom door, checking the path was clear, before creeping towards Gordon's room.

She was almost entirely fed up with this situation. She knew she _had_ to tread lightly around Alan, but in all honesty, it didn't make sense as to _why_.

He had been fine with their split. He'd taken that incredibly maturely. And now he was treating her like a leper and acting as though she'd kicked his dog, or cheated on him.

She _hadn't_.

Nor had she betrayed him in the slightest.

So he had no right to act the way he was, and yet, here they were.

The girl grit her teeth and tapped lightly on Gordon's door.

"Gordon? It's me,"

"Tin-tin?" he murmured, opening the door wide enough to let her quickly slip inside. She leaned against it, closing it gently as soon as she was in.

"Where's Alan?" he asked.

"Out for a jog," Gordon heaved a sigh, and Tin-tin wrapped him in a warm hug.

"It's okay, Alan's going up to Thunderbird 5 in a few days. He's got a month alone to think things through,"

"Or stew endlessly on them," she tapped his nose gently.

"_Optimism_, Gordon,"

"Easier said than done," he deadpanned.

Tin-tin sat beside him on his bed and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Alan can't stay angry for too long, Gordon. He can be an immature drama queen, but even he'll get over it. You're his favourite brother – he'll move on,"

Gordon raked his fingers through his auburn hair and sighed again, nodding.

"You're right. I guess we just have to wait this out," Tin-tin smiled wryly.

"Easier said than done,"

.1.1.

"Voting day!" Jenny all but skipped into Artemis Hall, sinking down in her seat opposite Tara at the Draconis house table. She beamed at all her friends.

Amber and Charlotte smirked in return, whilst Ophelia poured herself another mug of coffee, cooing as she drank.

Tara shot her a weak smile and scrunched up the bulky napkin in her lap, shoving back her empty plate. She plucked an apple from the basket before her.

"I'm not really hungry, you guys. I'll see you later," she shakily stood and walked out of the hall.

Jenny watched her retreat with a furrowed brow.

Tara looked peakier than usual, and her normally bright eyes and bright hair had dulled, the blonde strands hanging limp against her pasty skin. Her face was more gaunt than usual, her eyes slightly sunken...

And the pale wrists that occasionally showed as her baggy uniform slid up were almost skeletal...

Something was going on, and she was going to find out what.

.1.1.

Tara headed out to the lake and took a seat by the edge of the water, her knees tucked up to her chest. Her azure eyes flickered up to the overcast sky, covered in thick white clouds that were dulling to various shades of grey. The darkened light that shone through seemed almost foreboding.

A cool breeze danced through the air, rustling the leaves of the tall trees on the grounds, blowing strands of blonde hair across the girl's face, and raising bumps on her otherwise smooth pale skin.

"You alright?"

Tara jumped at the question, her head snapping in the direction of the voice.

Jenny sat beside her, her face full of curiosity.

"I'm fine, Jen," Tara replied, resting her chin on her knees, "What's up?"

"You didn't eat much at breakfast,"

"I'm not really hungry,"

"You haven't been eating much lately,"

"I haven't felt well," Jenny's features softened.

"Oh. That... explains a lot. Know what might be wrong?"

Tara considered this for a few moments, then nodded.

"I think it's the pill.(1) Nausea's supposed to be a side effect, so..."

Jenny hugged the girl, trying not to wince at how bony she felt.

"If you're not feeling well, want me to vote for you?"

"Yeah, okay. You'd probably know who'd be best for the job anyway," she paused, "Though even if it's Mary-Sue, vote for the most entertaining candidate. I'd rather have a laugh than have Mary-Sue at the helm,"

Jenny stood, brushing the grass off her skirt.

"Gotcha. See you in TOK later?"

"Yep," the petite brunette strolled off, leaving the emaciated blonde to continue to stare over the glassy surface of the lake.

Above her, the sky rumbled.

Her blank stare didn't waver.

.1.1.

Charlotte's lips pursed as she scanned the voting sheet.

(2) _**Draconis**__:_

_Tara Creighton-Ward_

_**Aquila**__:_

_Mary-Sue Pleasant_

_Allie Nguyen_

_Billie Henderson_

_**Panthera**__:_

_Amelia Stackhouse_

_Katie Stockholm_

_Sophie Lithgow_

_Ruby Bellefleur_

_**Delphinus**__:_

_Adie Lee_

_Evie Matthews_

_Katrina Evans_

_Judy Everett-Peters_

The future prefect body was assured to be a good one, but the question remained who would lead them, and who would vice.

With a frown, she began numbering her preferences.

.1.1.

Alan panted heavily, coming to a stop at the stairs leading up to the Tracy house in an attempt to catch his breath.

When he had managed to slow his gasps to a more manageable level, he heard one of his brothers splashing around in the pool. From the steadiness of the sound, whichever sibling it was would be swimming laps.

And so, that narrowed it right down to Virgil.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Alan fell heavily into a chair by the poolside. Virgil finished a lap and looked up.

"How was the run?" he asked, leaning on the edge of the pool. Alan replied with hand gestures, his voice tired and his throat hoarse from the jog.

Virgil laughed, managing to still understand Alan's meaning. After having lived on the big and particularly rocky island, they'd all learned to interpret the sign language of the exhausted, most commonly used by the younger two Tracy brothers.

And on _that_ note...

"And how are things with you and Gordon?"

That got Alan seated straight.

"Gordon?" he asked coldly, "Who's that? I don't know a _Gordon_," he rose, stomping up to his room.

The moment he'd left, Virgil groaned, falling backwards into the water.

_Real_ mature, Alan.

_REAL_ mature.

* * *

(1) Before I get any comments about Tara being on the pill, I just want to express that people _can_ be on the pill and not be using it as a contraceptive. I've got friends on it who use it to try and minimise their cramps, to have control over when the monthly plea for death starts, and also because the oestrogen is great for skin and boobs.

I put Tara on it because it would excuse her lack of appetite (to her friends) if it's making her nauseous, as well as account for several other "symptoms" of what's really going on with her.

(2) Just in case this doesn't make sense, or I haven't made it clear – Draconis, Panthera, Aquila and Delphinus are the four houses at Thorntree Academy. Whilst they haven't played a _big_ role, I'll still reference them on occasion.


	13. My Sundown

_**a/n**__ Reworked 23__rd__ February, 2009_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 13** – My Sundown

* * *

Tara's azure eyes stared vacantly at the overcast sky, only shifting into focus when the first resonant boom shuddered around the grounds, rattling nearby windows.

The icy fingers of the rain began pattering against her white skin, raising goosebumps in their movement, and clinging to her matted blonde hair, making it gather in stringy clumps.

Moving sluggishly, Tara rolled over, slowly pressing herself up and standing as the rain started to fall more heavily, plastering errant hairs against her forehead.

She sneezed, stumbling up the slippery slope of the grassy hill and dragging herself back to the stone castle of the Thorntree main building.

The warmth that greeted her upon entering the building seemed almost foreign. The blonde blinked up at the ceiling for a few moments, before turning and starting toward her dorm, so that she might change from her wet and grass stained clothes before hiding in the library during lunch.

However, when she was moments from the common room, she staggered into Jenny.

"Hey, drowned cat," the petite girl quipped, "I voted for you," Tara's nod was interrupted by a sneeze. The darker haired girl's smile faltered.

"You could be coming down with the flu or something, Tara," she spoke softly, standing aside and moving with the blonde toward their common room, "That would explain a lot," she pinched the girl's wet, baggy jumper, "Go get changed out of these wet clothes and take a hot bath, okay?"

Tara nodded, grateful she didn't have to speak.

Once at the common room, Jenny bid her farewell and returned to the office.

Tara breathed out a long, slow sigh.

As long as they all refused to see it, she was safe.

.1.1.

"Oh _come on_," Virgil groaned, "You can't tell me you're not finding this incredibly _bloody_ unbearable, Scott!"

"I'm not saying that in the least, Virg, but there's nothing we _can_ do,"

The middle Tracy grumbled.

"So we're not even going to _try_?" Scott sighed, shaking his head.

"As much as I'd love to, it's not our place to meddle,"

From behind Scott, there was a snort.

"Since when?" the boys' heads snapped to the doorway where their father was leaning, eyebrows raised.

"Father! We were just..."

"I heard, Virgil," Jeff straightened, amusement clearly showing on his features, "And I can only assume you two are discussing the... _situation_ between your younger brothers?"

Both nodded slowly.

Jeff sighed.

"As much as you may try not to get involved, inevitably you will end up doing something – I know you boys," he turned to leave, before tossing over his shoulder, "Just try not to destroy the house in the process. And good luck,"

Neither Scott nor Virgil knew quite how to deal with that.

Both settled with staring incredulously and almost suspiciously at the place their father had occupied in the doorway.

Until, that is, Virgil spoke.

"So, what do you think we can do?"

.1.1.

By late afternoon, the rain hadn't lightened, so Tara had taken to sitting in the library, tucked in the back corner of the study tables, her Latin textbook open before her.

Mostly, it kept her mind occupied, and thus stopped it from wandering back to—

"_You think you know innocent little Tara so well, don't you?" he laughed, "Did you know she's a crack whore? Since we've started dating, she's smoked, gotten drunk, and been the little party whore she is. She's worthless trash,"_

-- but inevitably, her mind _would_ wander.

"_You think you're so much better than me? I've got news for you, precious, you're not even worthy to lick my shoes. You can't do a damn thing and you're nothing but useless trash. You don't even deserve to live anymore,"_

Tara closed her eyes tightly, curling her legs up to her chest and pressing her hands over her ears. She shook her head, tears sliding down her pale cheeks.

_No. No more._

_It was like everything was moving in slow motion. She saw his fist coming, but couldn't move out of the way in time. It struck her in the face, snapping her head back and making her topple onto the hard floor. She cried out and whimpered, begging for him to stop, but his only response was his foot, shooting out to catch her in the side. She sobbed, begging and pleading. He dragged her to her feet and threw her against the wall._

_Winded, she slumped to the hard floor, and prayed that if he was to kill her, it'd be over fast._

_Please, God, just let me die._

.1.1.

"So..." Amber snatched the last sausage off the plate in front of Charlotte, making her throw a dried apricot in the Asian girl's direction, "who's staying back these holidays?"

"I am!" Ophelia was overly chipper after her first coffee of the morning.

"Ditto," Jenny added, sliding away from the slightly psychotic looking ravenette.

"Yeah," Tara threw in, nibbling at a piece of toast. The petite brunette opposite her snorted.

"No, Tara, you're not," Jenny thoughtfully chewed and swallowed her egg, "I got your absentee slip signed yesterday, and you're not on the staying list. Guess your mum wants you home this year,"

The blonde used this as a distraction to dispose of her toast in a napkin, and slumped onto the table.

"Oh, cruel world," she whimpered melodramatically, "why must you torment me?"

The group exchanged amused glances, before Charlotte rose to the bait.

"What's wrong, Tara?"

"A trip home?" she threw a hand against her forehead, "Means a _party_,"

They laughed.

"Oh, suck it up, drama queen,"

Inwardly, Tara smiled wryly.

.1.1.

"... Understand, Scott?"

The eldest Tracy groaned.

"So _I_ have to go and pick the Teen Terror up because she gets to start being trained in the "ways of International Rescue","

"Correct,"

"But father, _why_ do _I_ have to go and pick her up?"

Jeff pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Again, Scott, because you're the only one who can. John and Virgil have gone to do the exchange with Alan, Alan will need to sleep off the trip, I wouldn't trust Gordon to pick her up as far as I could throw him, and you're the eldest," he responded, sounding longsuffering.

Scott was tempted to protest this, but from the tired look his father gave him, he just frowned and nodded.

"Fine. But let it be noted that I protested this,"

"Consider it logged. _Go_,"

Saluting (and pouting), the eldest Tracy son left his father's office.

.1.1.

Jenny was shuffling student newsletters when she heard the distinct sound of someone fighting with the front door and losing.

Hazel eyes flickered up to see a fairly handsome man attempt to push his way through the glass doors, completely oblivious to the clear directions engraved below.

Not that she particularly minded – he was particularly good to look at. His dark hair was short, and his features strong and striking.

(1)When he finally pulled the door open, Jenny had to avert her gaze and bite back a smirk.

"Ah..." he cleared his throat, "Excuse me?"

She was met with piercing blue eyes, and she flushed slightly.

"Can I help you?" she asked, licking her suddenly dry lips. His brow furrowed.

"I'm not sure. I'm here to pick up a student,"

Jenny smothered the urge to respond suggestively and nodded.

"Name?"

"Scott Tracy,"

The girl couldn't stop the giggle that burst from her lips. Scott looked at her strangely.

"Sorry, I meant the name of the student you're here for," she looked up at him through her eyelashes and tittered again. He made a small noise of comprehension.

"Okay. Well, it's Tara. Tara Creighton-Ward,"

Inwardly, Jenny cursed Tara's good fortune.

Yet _another_ attractive boy had come to pick the blonde up.

God, life just wasn't _fair_ sometimes.

"Take this visitor's badge, and we can head through and pick up Tara for you," Jenny handed him a visitor's clip and started out the door. Scott followed, sure to _pull_ on the door this time.

.1.1.

"_Jen_!" the brunette turned in the direction of her name, spying the curly black hair of Ophelia before it registered.

"Hey 'Phel. Seen Tara?"

"Damn, you mean you haven't either?" Jenny's brow furrowed.

"Either? Who else have you asked?"

"Charlotte figured you'd know, Amber was talking to Alexander, and I'd hoped you'd know..." she ran her fingers through her messy curls, spotting Scott for the first time. Ophelia let out a low whistle.

"Well, hel-_lo_," her chocolate eyes raked up and down the eldest Tracy son, "Who is _that_ spunk muffin?"

(Scott tried not to preen)

"Tara's ride," Jenny muttered, giggling. Ophelia snickered.

"Well, if he's Tara's _ride_, then..."

(Scott struggled to not blanch at the suggestion in the girl's voice.

That would just be...

_...Eww._)

"Pervert," the brunette playfully hit her friend, "And he's not _that_ hot... I bet the pilot of Thunderbird 1 is hotter,"

(The Thunderbird 1 pilot wasn't sure whether or not to take that as a compliment or an insult. Should one be insulted if they overhear a person saying that they're hotter than themselves?)

Ophelia shrugged.

"I still say it's the guy in Thunderbird 5," she mockingly swooned against her friend, "Despite what Tara thinks, I bet he's not a nerdy weed,"

(Scott had to fight to keep his face straight at this point. He was sure John would _love_ to hear what the young Lady Creighton-Ward had told her friends of him)

The two girls seemed lost in fantasy, so Scott cleared his throat. Immediately, Jenny straightened.

"Okay, we'll keep looking for Tara, alright? If you find her first, tell her that her ride's here,"

"Can do," Ophelia saluted, "Happy hunting!"

"I hate you when you've had this much caffeine," Jenny shouted at her retreating friend. Ophelia laughed and tossed a rude gesture behind her back at her friend.

.1.1.

Jenny eventually found Tara (on detention) in the library, restacking shelves.

"Tars?" azure eyes flickered over to the speaker, "Someone's here to take you home, kid,"

"Kid?" the blonde asked, running almost skeletal fingers through her hair, "Who?"

"Ra-ra?" Scott peered around the bookshelf, expecting to get blasted, but Tara merely blinked owlishly at him.

"Okay," she set the last book in her pile in its place on the fiction shelves, and then moved to excuse herself from the library, explaining the situation to the librarian.

Scott watched her, suspiciously, as she moved away.

Something was different about the blonde from their last meeting.

Then, they followed Tara to the Draconis dorm, where she gathered her bags. The eldest Tracy took the trunk, fairly certain Tara wouldn't have been able to handle it.

They signed her out, and Tara bid her friends farewell, before Scott loaded her trunk into his car, and then the blonde teen in the front seat. He slid in behind the wheel and turned to look at her briefly.

Aside from the phenomenal weight loss, something was different in her eyes.

"Ready to go, Ra-ra?"

She glanced at him after buckling her seatbelt.

"Ready," she murmured, her gaze flickering away.

As they drove, it dawned on Scott what was missing.

It was the spirit. The fire.

The fight was gone from her eyes.

* * *

(1) Have you ever watched a girl make a fool of herself in front of a hot guy? It's surprisingly amusing.


	14. Birthdays, Christmas and Unwanted Surpri...

_**A/N** :claps happily: That's right, I FINALLY got my new Laptop today:does a little dance: Currently, I'm experimenting with the DVD player, and iTunes, but Now, I shall be a good girl, and write you all a chapter! I'm sorry It's taken SO long... I blame Latin - That's right, Joelle - This ALL falls on you :humph: Oh. And the Public speaking thing for English. That one's screwed too - I have to do mine again for round two... :Whines:_

* * *

**Chapter 14 - Birthdays, Christmas and Unwanted Surprises**

* * *

"I think something's wrong with Ra-ra..." Scott muttered softly to Virgil, as they pulled over Tracy Island. 

"Like?" Virgil dropped into a steep descent, firing retrodes as the 'bird dropped lower.

"She's gotten quiet..."

"Maybe she's grown up..."

Scott gave his brother a look.

"I'm serious Virgil... I think there's something wrong..." The middle Tracy heaved a sigh.

"We'll find out..."

.1.1.1.1.

Tara's expression remained unchanged as she made her way through the lounge room at Tracy Island.

Lady Penelope looked up, and smiled, rising to kiss her daughter on both cheeks.

"Tara dear!" Tara forced herself to smile back, her stomach giving a loud lurch.

"Tara... are you alright?" She nodded again, heading towards the staircase.

"Just tired..." she trudged up the staircase slowly, whilst Scott and Virgil exchanged glances.

Tara definitely wasn't herself; that much they were sure of.

.1.1.1.1.

"Oi Scott..." Alan checked over his shoulder, heading over to the eldest Tracy boy.

"Mmm...?" Scott didn't look up from his breakfast.

"You know how it's Tara's birthday in 2 days..."

"Mmm..."

"Are we going to do anything?" Scott looked up, lowering his spoon with a sigh.

"I haven't planned anything... but you can if you want to... except just remember... every time we make plans for something... We get a rescue call..."

"Then how about something small... for now?'

"Yeah... I mean; she's only turning 17..."

.1.1.1.1.

Tara opened her eyes sleepily, two days later when she awoke with a moan.

Her stomach grumbled, and she ignored it, swinging her legs over the side of her bed, and shakily standing.

Pulling her dressing gown around her frail form, the girl trudged downstairs slowly, immediately being greeted by an uproar.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TARA!" She rubbed her eyes, examining the room.

She spied her mother, Jeff, Six Tracy boys, Parker, Kyra--

Hold it.

_Six Tracy boys!_

Tara rubbed her eyes again, the picture sliding back into focus.

Sorry, Five Tracy boys, and Brains – who'd taken his glasses off for a moment to clean them.

'_That was a cruel trick to play on a tired girl,'_ Tara thought huffily, her eyes dancing over the 5 grinning faces of the Tracy boys, _'Especially this early in the morning...'_

"Happy 17th Ra-ra!" Tara blinked vacantly, feeling a hand on her arm, pulling her through to the dining room.

She took a seat, the rest of the family joining her, and chatting animatedly.

Tara just wanted to crawl in a hole and die -

The way she was feeling of late.

.1.1.1.1.

"Kyrano made you a special Birthday Breakfast!" Tara looked down at her plate, the French toast looking so good...

She forced one bite, smiling as the butter melted in her mouth.

"It's..." She swallowed hard, "... Great..." Taking that as a sign of consent, the rest started into their food, Tara taking one more bite, before sneaking it into a napkin, to throw away.

She just wasn't in the mood for food.

"I'll just go upstairs and get dressed..." Tara slid off, throwing the wrapped up toast out as she crept off.

When she got up to her room, Tara yawned widely, her stomach lurching loudly.

She ignored it, and headed to her wardrobe, pulling on a pair of jeans, and a white button up blouse.

When she emerged downstairs again, the family had gathered around in the dining room, a small pile of gifts arranged on the coffee table.

Tara took a deep breath, and held herself back, taking slow steps towards the lounge, and sliding into a seat near her mother.

With her quiet entry, only Alan seemed to notice her return.

"Hey Birthday girl!" She gave him a forced smile, and leaned back in her seat.

"Tara dear! It's time to do what you loved when you were little!" Tara sat up a little, willing herself to at least feel something.

"Really? W…What would that be?" Gordon laughed warmly.

"Really now, Ra-ra... you of all people should remember present time!" Tara felt a pink tint grow in her cheeks as she recalled the last birthday she'd spent with the boys on the island.

_. . : Memory : . . _

A 5 year old Tara fidgeted awkwardly with the hem of her skirt, gazing longingly over at the pile of gifts on the coffee table.

She glanced up at the clock.

'_Only 5 more minutes until Mama said I can open my presents...'_ She stared at the clock, willing time to speed up.

Instead, she could have almost sworn the clock ticked backwards.

"Mama?" Penelope looked over, stopping her conversation with Jeff to attend to her daughter.

"Can I please open my presents now?"

"Tara... you need to be patient... 5 more minutes... Scott and John have to finish their homework, and they just need 5 more minutes... then I promise you can open your birthday presents..."

"But Mama..."

"No buts, Tara... patience is a virtue you need to learn to be a gracious lady when you get older..."

"But I want my presents!"

"Tara!"

"Mama! It's my birthday! I'm 5 years old!" She held up five fingers to add to her case.

"Tara..." Penelope heaved a sigh, looking down on her blonde haired daughter. Tara stuck out her bottom lip in a huff.

"It's my birthday..."

"I know, darling... just wait for Scott and John..."

"But..."

"Go play with Alan and Gordon, Tara... it'll take your mind off things..."

Tara sniffed, and got off the lounge, trudging to the door outside, where she spied Gordon and Alan leaning against the outside wall, talking.

From the sounds of things, they'd overheard Tara's little sniff and tantrum.

"Everything alright, Ra-ra?" Tara stomped her foot angrily.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

_. . : End Memory : . ._

"Here..." Alan smiled warmly, handing Tara her first gift. Her hand shaking whilst she carefully unwrapped the pink paper, Tara let out a gasp when she saw what lay inside.

Hanging delicately off a silver chain, was a diamond and pink cubic zirconia studded pendant - forming the most important letter of the alphabet - as Tara had told the boys several times when she was 6.

**_T_**.

The girl quickly grasped it, and unhooked the clasp, fastening it back together, and letting the chain fall on her upper chest, the silver glinting in the sunlight.

"Thankyou Alan..." She whispered softly, her stormy grey/blue eyes welling with tears.

Immediately, she sprung up, racing to her bedroom.

'_Something like this... that's what a boyfriend's SUPPOSED to do... god... why then hell did I pick someone like Josh? Why? Why me?'_

.1.1.1.1.

Downstairs, the Tracy boys, Penelope and Parker sat in silent confusion.

"Well..." Gordon finally broke the silence, "That was unexpected..."

.1.1.1.1.

For the next few days, and weeks, Tara remained relatively silent, helping the boys decorate the house for the holidays when required, and hiding in her bedroom - away from the prying eyes at other times.

"Hey Ra-ra! Pass the tinsel!" Tara snapped out of her distracted state, and glowered at Scott, handing him the golden decoration.

He gave her a sly wink, and took it graciously, climbing back up the step-ladder to pin it up over the doorframe.

Inside the lounge room, Tara heard a squeal.

"Tara! Darling! Come in here!" She, although puzzled, obeyed her mother's request, and immediately grimaced.

Penelope was brandishing an angel for atop the Christmas tree - all decked out in little pink Christmas dress, and all. From over in the corner, Jeff laughed, taking his own personal favourite festive toy from it's year-long prison.

He plugged it in, and pressed the play button - the jolly fat man making no attempt to move.

With a groan, Jeff pressed the button again - with the same outcome.

"BRAINS!" The scientist strolled through the lounge, chuckling as he spied the decoration.

"S-s-s-Santa p-p-playing up a-again, e-eh J-J-Jeff?" Jeff rubbed his temples, sinking into a chair.

"Can you fix it Brains? It just wouldn't be Christmas without him..." Brains chuckled, and tucked the electronic device under his arm.

"E-e-every year I m-m-m-manage..." Jeff grinned - his lightened expression reminding Tara a great deal of a 10 year old who'd found his parent's stash of Christmas gifts.

"Thanks Brains..."

"N-n-no problem, M-M-Mr. T-Tracy..."

.1.1.1.1.

2 painstaking hours later, Tara looked up from her book in the lounge, hearing the Texan rendition of Jingle bell rock.

She stood up, walking through to find Jeff clapping Brains on the back, watching his favourite decoration dance for the first time of that Christmas season.

Behind her, the girl heard a chorus enigmatic groans.

"He got the Texan Santa working..." The voice - obviously belonging to Virgil - moaned.

"I thought you told me you took care of it!" John hissed.

"I thought I did! I soaked it in a bucket of water for over an hour!" Virgil hoarsely replied.

"If he plays that thing one more time, I swear I'll smash it with a sledgehammer," Scott's voice waved as he tried to keep his cool.

"Ooh! Mr. Scott Nothing-can-stop-my-cool Tracy making angry threats?"

"Oi, Gordon, I've had to put up with it _Four_ more bloody years than you... Alright?"

"And...?"

"Jingle bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle bell--"

"SHUT UP ALAN!" Tara chuckled as the four elder boys rounded on their youngest sibling.

In the doorway, Jeff skidded to a halt.

"Brains got the Santa working boys! Christmas is saved!" Virgil faked a smile, and the others forced a laugh.

"That's great, father!"

"Brilliant!"

"Fantastic!" Jeff walked off, - Tara could have sworn - almost skipping.

"Bloody hell... I'm not going to make it through this Christmas..."

"Mmm... It's either that, or us..."

"Think he'd find it on Thunderbird 5?" John snorted.

"Put it up there, and I might be tempted to jettison it into space..." He was replied with nothing but blank faces.

"You say that like it's a bad thing..."

.1.1.1.1.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY LADY P!" Penelope chuckled walking downstairs, immaculately dressed in her light pink sundress.

"Why thankyou boys!" She looked around at all the smiling faces, spying her daughter in the corner - looking rather withdrawn and anti-social.

She too was smiling - though hers didn't look as genuine as the boys'.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Penelope set out, receiving her birthday hugs and kisses...

And punches.

Gordon really wasn't tactful when it came to ladies.

_Really_ wasn't.

.1.1.1.1.

The first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, sending a beam of white light streaming through Alan Tracy's window. He opened his eyes, groaning, until realisation dawned over him.

"IT'S CHRISTMAS!" Yes. Even though Alan was now 21 years of age - he still acted like a 6 year old on that one festive holiday of the year.

The youngest Tracy son raced downstairs, soon being joined by the pattering of his brother's feet on the staircase.

The five boys took seats around the Christmas tree, Alan and Virgil distributing the gifts steadily.

As each pile grew, cheerful chatter filled the air from each person in the household.

Finally, with all presents handed out, Alan and Virgil turned to face the family, grinning incessantly.

"Everyone h--"_ Beep-Beep-Beep_

Of course. Being International rescue meant their Christmas morning was short lived.

In the background, a beeping could be heard, and the boys groaned.

Jeff appeared in the doorway, and he gave them all a weak smile.

"Sorry Boys... It's a rescue..." The five stood, grumbling, and trudged into Jeff's office to be briefed.

.1.1.1.1.

About an hour later, the boys returned from their rescue - It was just a simple search and rescue mission - to the deathly silent house of the Tracy family.

Tara, it seemed, still hadn't risen for the morning.

"That'd be about right..." Gordon moaned, rubbing his sore elbow, "We go out to save people, and she stays in bed!"

Alan looked at him distainfully.

"I'll go and get Tara up..." He bolted up the stairs - still dressed in his International Rescue uniform - and rapped softly on her door.

"Tari? You up yet?"

A dead silence greeted him.

"Tari?"

_Nothing_

"Tara?"

_This was starting to worry him_

Alan pushed the door open, concern washing over his features as he caught sight of what lay on the bed.

Tara was lying perfectly still, her eyes closed, and her hair framing her face perfectly. It made no sense, but it did.

Her loose white nightgown clung to her form in just the right places, bringing the girl an appearance of a Sleeping Beauty.

Alan spun around, as a hand landed on his shoulder.

Virgil gave his brother an amused look.

"Why so jumpy?" Alan shook his head, turning back to the girl.

"She looks so peaceful..." Virgil breathed a sigh.

Alan nodded in agreement.

"Something isn't right here..." The youngest Tracy moved from his place in the doorway, and knelt beside the unmoving girl.

Immediately, his eyes filled with worry.

"Virgil... I can't find her pulse..." Virgil furrowed his brow, kneeling beside his brother, and taking Tara's wrist in his hands. From under the bedsheet, a pill container rolled out, clattering on the floor as it fell.

"Shit…" The two exchanged glances, racing downstairs.

"Father! Lady Penelope!" Jeff and Penelope looked up, Jeff's stomach sinking at the sight of the two disturbed boys.

"What is it Virgil... Alan?"

"It's Tara... We can't find a pulse..." A clattering sound was heard as Lady Penelope dropped her teacup on the floor - the pieces shattering as they made impact on the ground. Liquid beads of tea scattered over the floor with the porcelain, and Penelope stood, her blue eyes examining that of the boys for any deception.

She found none.

.1.1.1.1.

The next few hours seemed to pass in slow motion for both the Tracy and Creighton-Ward families.

Lady Penelope sank into a hard plastic chair in the waiting room, Scott and Jeff attempting to give her as much comfort as they could offer.

Her face was blotchy, and her eyes bloodshot from all the tears she'd spilt - just hearing the words bounce around in her ears... in her mind...

_Penelope, Jeff, Parker and the boys raced through the hospital emergency room, Alan clutching the limp form of the young Creighton-Ward to his chest._

_A few attendants saw to the girl, loading Tara onto a gurney, and taking her off into the hospital. _

_Alan stayed with her for as long as he could - the nurses eventually telling him to wait outside._

_When the families were allowed to see the girl again, the doctor who'd been given responsibility over Tara had come out to see Penelope._

"_I'm terribly sorry, Lady Penelope... but we've done all we can... Your daughter, it seems, took a vast amount of sleeping pills... We've pumped her stomach... she didn't appear to have taken that many... but it also seems that she was suffering from malnutrition... We've put her on a drip, and with any luck she will recover..."_

_A tear slid from Penelope's eye, Parker attempting to offer some comfort to his mistress._

"_I'll take 'erladyship for some tea..." He mouthed to Jeff, and Jeff nodded in ascent._

_After she'd left, the boys all stood in silence. A few moments past, until Jeff finally spoke._

"_Come on boys... We should leave Tara to awake in peace..."_

"_No..." Alan's voice was barely more than a whisper._

"_If you don't mind... I want to stay..." Jeff sighed, and nodded slowly._

_To him, it was understandable that Alan wanted to stay. He and Tara had been the best of friends since she was born... It was right he'd be worried for her and want to stay..._

_He looked back over at his youngest son, Alan pulling a chair closer to her bedside, and taking a seat, settling in, and watching Tara over his fingers._

"_Come on boys..." The other four Tracy sons nodded, and followed their father out to the waiting room._

"She will wake up, Lady P..." Scott clasped the Lady's hand, "She's a Creighton-Ward... She'll be strong..."

.1.1.1.1.

Alan watched Tara, her chest rising and falling as she took a breath.

He closed his eyes tightly, willing her to wake up.

Partly for her mother

Partly for her friends

Partly for his brothers, and the organisation

But Mostly for him

Tara was like his best friend - There was no way he was going to loose her that easily.

* * *

_**A/N** Again - Sorry this has taken so long! I've had exams at School - Assignments to complete... AND MY BIRTHDAY! Twas my birthday on Tuesday - I'm now a year older:Does a little Dance:_

_Anyway - I'm on holidays now, so I can update more... with any luck..._

_And I hope you all had a brilliant Easter!_

_Chocolate eggs for all!_

**Money makes me smile:** _Whoa! Congrats on such a Fab result! We got our maths (equations) tests back last week... :drum-roll: 96 percent. I am sooooo stoked! _

**Isis3110:**_ He-he. Thankyou! Well - perhaps... Quiet - no way. Gar. Guys are soooo hard to deal with... I'm blonde! so sue me if I didn't realise him asking me to the movies constituted as a date:sniffs: Sorry about that... _

**Olympics 2012 London:**_ He-he... Latin's so... odd... My teacher's okay at it - but he went to school with my brother - not helpful... not at all... So yeah... I can't whinge about my brother in class, cuz I never quite know what Joel's going to tell him... :shifty eyes: Anyway - Thanks for the review, and the e-mail!_

**Peace Pixie:**_ ROFLOL! My friend thinks air makes her hyper... It's a tad disturbing when she gets on a rant about that... he-he. Our school uniform looks like a tent. I'm dead serious. A navy blue tent over a white blouse. But - The senior uniform is sooo much better... :sigh: Next year... Anyway - As for Tara... I hope this chapter cleared a few things up... if not... She'll have a tell all confession in Chapter 15 :P_

_So Anyway - Thanks all for the reviews :mwa:mwa: _

_Kiss kiss, Darlings!_

_**The Faerie**_

_1 - Yes. I am high._

_2 - Silence is Golden... Shouting's just more fun!_


	15. Hear You Me

_**A/N** I... am... SO... Sorry! My brother broke my USB disk - which effectively meant I couldn't transfer this chapter from my laptop, to my desktop... THE DESKTOP HAS THE NET CONNECTION! So don't curse me for lack of update._

_Curse my brother._

_(Psst. His name is Lachlan)_

_This is really hard for me... I REALLY wanna play Sims 2 University... or Jedi Academy... (Don't look at me like that! It's a fun game! Go feminism! Go Jaden!) :sniff:_

* * *

**Chapter 15 - Hear You Me**

* * *

For the next few nights, Alan suffered staggered sleep, waking every 15 or so minutes to check on the girl.

Finally, 4 days after it happened, he could tell some difference in her appearance.

Tara's cheeks had regained their rosy appearance, and her lips returned to their deep, pink state.

Other that these small changes - she remained unchanged.

Alan settled back into his chair, cradling his head in his hands.

The whole 4 days, one question had bounced around his mind.

_Why?_

.1.1.1.1.

"_I love you Tars..." He cupped her cheek in his hand, running his fingers through her golden blonde hair. _

_Tara tore her gaze away from his, and she looked over his shoulder, spying Sandy Serandon balling her hands into fists._

_A satisfied smirk crossed the blonde's lips as she looked back up to Josh._

"_I love you too, Josh..." He leaned in, their lips meeting for the briefest moment._

_Inwardly, Tara cheered. She'd won. She'd beat Sandy - Josh chose her over his ex._

_She'd won..._

_.1.1.1.1._

"_Oh my GOSH Tara! You and Josh, are, like... too... like perfect for words!" Tara chuckled, throwing some popcorn at Tania playfully._

"_Don't act a bimbo... it's not becoming to you..." Tania pouted, turning to Lara for help._

_Lara just shrugged, giggling._

"_She's right, Tars... you and Josh are just too perfect... It's like... you two were meant to be together..."_

_.1.1.1.1._

"_You... You're full of shit!" One hand gripped her forearm, the other slapped her across the face._

"_You had to have known..." **Smack**_

"_It was so obvious!" **Smack**_

"_And then you go and pull a stunt like this!" **Smack**_

"_You're just a stupid, dumb bitch, Tara!" He picked her up by her forearms, throwing her against the wall._

_Tara felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of her, and she sank to the floor, crumpling in a limp pile at the bottom._

_.1.1.1.1._

"Isn't there anything you can do for her doctor?" Scott asked, looking through the window into the room, a feeling of pity and dread washing over him as he spied both his brother, and the unconscious girl.

Unfortunately, the doctor shook his head.

"We've given her all we can... The medication she took wasn't that potent... but given her progression into Anorexia, and her low body mass, they packed quite a punch for the girl..."

"Will she wake up…?"

"There's no reason she shouldn't... When is the only issue..."

.1.1.1.1.

Alan's eyes sprung open for the 5th time that night, and he immediately jumped up, surveying the face of the girl in the dimmed light of the hospital room.

"Unngh..." His heart thudded harder in his chest, his eyes dancing over her facial features.

"Urrgh..." Her pink lips opened, emitting the low moan.

Alan's breath quickened, his gaze cemented on her face.

"Uhh..." The moan was louder this time, her lips forming a triangular shape.

Alan opened his mouth to speak, but no words could come out.

"Mmm..." Her eyes fluttered open, her pupils sliding into focus of the room around her.

Immediately, confusion washed over her features.

"W...W...Where am I…?" Alan's heart skipped a beat, his voice - after he'd found it again - coming out in a rasp.

"You're in the Intensive Care centre of the London Hospital..." The girl peered up through the darkness, cocking her head to the side.

"Alan...? Is that you?" A grin broke out over his face.

"Yeah Tara... It's me..." She fell back onto her pillows, closing her eyes tightly, and turning her head away.

Alan sat back down, only imagining what was racing through her mind.

A few minutes later, she looked back up, staring at the ceiling of her hospital room.

"Does everyone know?" her voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.

Alan nodded slowly, licking his lips, and trying to build up the courage to ask that one question that had been pestering him since the beginning.

A few more moments of silence past, Tara's fingers clutching the sheet tightly - as if it acted as her only security.

"Tara... Why did you do it?" The girl let out a sob, a tear trickling down from her eye. That solitary tear was soon followed by another and another, Alan's heart plummeting as he heard the girl sob.

'_Great, Al... just great... you talk to a girl and made her cry...'_ He thought, sarcastically.

Taking a breath, Alan shifted his chair over to directly beside her bedside, and he plucked a tissue from a nearby box, brushing the tears from her cheeks.

Her eyes blinked open, meeting his for a split second, before she looked away.

"I'm sorry Alan..." she was barely audible, and, against his curiosity, he let the topic drop.

.1.1.1.1.

The next morning, Tara awoke to doctors bustling around her bed, checking her vital signs, and writing on her charts.

Once they'd left, she looked up, and sighed loudly.

The single, remaining nurse nearly jumped 3 feet into the air.

"Miss. Creighton-Ward! You're awake! Blimey!" She spoke with a cockney accent, and Tara cast a glance at Alan, who wore an entertained expression.

She couldn't blame him.

"I'd best get the doctor!" Alan stood, giving the nurse a smile.

"How about I go and do that? I need to get a cup of coffee anyway..." He strode out of the room, Tara not being able to help but roll her eyes at his "gentlemanly attitude".

The only one of the Tracy boys she really knew to harbor that - Would have to be Virgil. But then again... sometimes Scott and John had their moments...

She shook her head of the thoughts, and started to focus on her own situation again.

The nurse gave the boy a dreamy sigh as he left. She shook her head, and turned the cog on Tara's bed, bringing her up to a sitting position.

"Quite a catch tha' one... eh?" Tara gave the nurse a bemused glance.

"Pardon?"

"Tha' young bloke! He's stayed by your side the 'hole time you were out, Miss. Creighton-Ward!" Tara furrowed her brow.

"The whole time...?"

"Uh huh... 'is brother's tried ta 'im ta leave a few days ago... said 'e looked terrible, they did..." Tara leaned back into her pillows, confused.

"H... How long have I been out?"

"'bout 5 day, Miss. Creighton-Ward..."

'_Five Days...'_ She closed her eyes tightly, tipping her head back towards the ceiling.

'_Five whole days... re-living that night...'_

"You're qui' a lucky girl, Miss. Creighton-Ward! If I 'ad a boyfriend li' that, I be' he'd make me feel li' a princess, he would!"

Had she been able to, Tara would have sat bolt upright.

"Boyfriend? Alan? No way..." She shook her head at the idea, "He's not my boyfriend... Best guy friend, maybe... but... Nooooo Way..." The Nurse gave Tara an amused smile, and left the room with a slight nod of her head.

A few minutes later, the doctor came in, being trailed by Alan - who gave the blonde girl a slight grin.

Tara returned it weakly.

"Alright, Miss. Creighton-Ward... let's have a little look see, shall we?"

Tara wasn't listening.

Those words... and that look that nurse had given her...

'_Yeah right... Boyfriend indeed...'_

.1.1.1.1.

Lady Penelope raced into the hospital room in the least "Lady-like" manner, and enveloped her daughter in a hug, planting a kiss on her forehead.

Tara was taken aback by her mother's open show of affection - something which, for the first 15 years of her life she believed her mother didn't harbor for her.

When Penelope finally relinquished her grip on her daughter and pulled back, Tara got to see the entire Tracy Family (Minus John, who'd gone back up to Thunderbird 5 to relieve a fed up Tin-tin...a VERY fed up Tin-tin), and Parker.

The young girl closed her eyes tightly, averting her gaze from their reproving stares.

"I'm so glad you're alright, Tara dear..." Penelope spoke gently and soothingly, her voice almost pleading for her daughter to look at her.

Tara's fingers held a grip on her bed sheet, clutching it to her form.

No-one dared to ask the girl that one question - Alan having relayed his tale to the rest of the family.

They were convinced Tara would talk to them when she was ready to. Not any time before.

All they could do was to try and make her trust them.

And that - everyone knew - was a very hard, long and daunting task.

.1.1.1.1.

A few days later, after Tara's condition had been deemed "Not a serious threat to herself or anyone else", she was discharged into her mother's care - which then translated to that of the Tracy Family.

Once back on the island, Tara was put into her room, and made to stay there, so she could rest and recuperate... and so that the entire International Rescue could keep an eye on her.

Alan checked up on her every 15 minutes with such accuracy, Tara - had she bothered to pick up on it - would have been able to set her watch by him.

Of course, after Virgil and Scott got wind of this, the visits were dramatically cut down.

They didn't want Tara to think he was stalking her... right?

When finally left alone, Tara let out a loud sigh, lying back on her pillow, closing her eyes, and trying to block out the world.

_So what would you think of me now?_

_So lucky, so strong, so proud_

_I never said thank-you for that_

_Now I'll never have a chance_

_May Angels lead you in_

_Hear you me, my friends_

_On sleepless roads, the sleepless go_

"_May Angels lead you in,"_

Tin-tin grimaced, closing the door gently behind her, hearing Tara listen to the quiet, soft song.

"Tara?" She opened one of her grey/blue eyes, and spotted the raven haired girl, letting out another sigh.

"I'm still here, and I'm still alive, Tin-tin..." Tin-tin cracked a smile.

"I'm not here for that, but thanks for letting me know..." Tara made a noise that could almost be mistaken for a chuckle.

"Well... if you're not here for that... then why are you here?" Tin-tin took a seat on the edge of Tara's bed, and gave the girl a weak grin.

"Girl talk..." Tara heaved a jovial moan.

"Tars... I'd like to think of you as a little sister... I mean... We've always been able to talk in the past..."

Tara settled back in her pillows, and closed her eyes.

"Tara... please... Just hear me out..."

She closed her eyes tighter.

"I want to try and help... Tars... you're like the little sister I never had... except you're blonde... and we look nothing alike..." Tin-tin shook her head at the rambling thoughts, "Please, Tars... talk to me..."

Tara let out a sigh of defeat, and opened her eyes, tears welling up, threatening to fall.

"I...It all started when I ran away..."

_And if you were with me tonight_

_I'd sing to you just one more time_

_A song for a heart so big_

_God wouldn't let it live..._

* * *

_**A/N** This Chapter was named after; and featured lyrics from the song by Jimmy Eat World - Hear You Me._

_I adore this song! It's soo sweet and... I sound so gushy... :sigh:_

_Anyway... I got a haircut today! I now have a sweeping side fringe, and layered blonde hair:does a happy dance:_

_Enough about me..._

_Review Replies!_

**_Isis3110:_** _I'm sorry this took so long! Like I said... annoying brother broke USB disk... :sniff: I so need a new one! thanks for the review!_

_**Jnr Cpl Nottingham:** Ahh exams... how I hate thee... We had a Geography common exam today... Half the stuff we didn't learn.. oh well... And I still have Science and Latin to go... whoopee, whoo fun... I hope you had a good time in Hong Kong!_

_**Jnr Cpl Scarlett:** Aww! Thankyou soo much! I'm feeling so special right now! Good luck with your SATS_

_**Olympics 2012 London:** he-he. Here you go! An update... And I'm, obviously, back from camp, so if you need anything BETA-ed I'm ready :)_

_**Money makes me smile:** LoL Your reviews always make me laugh. I'm glad you were so happy with the last chapter... but as for Tara's father... nuh-uh. No more hints. :smiles innocently: I'm not telling :)_

_**Christiana Anderson:** Thankyou! I'm glad you like it thus far, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter too... _

_Anyway... I must go now... Alexandra Simpson won't grow up and go to college on her own, now... Sims 2 beckons me! I must go!_

_:Dramatic Exit:_

_:Dramatic re-entry:_

_On the other hand... Jaden Korr really does need to get to the tomb of Marka Ragnos and destroy Tavion and the sceptre..._

_Decisions..._

_:Dramatic re-exit:_

_**The Faerie**_


	16. Vere Aperire

_A/N. F--k. F--k. F--k, f--k, f--k, f--k, f--k, f--k, f--k! U C ((Ha-ha so lame)), A while ago I was in this movie... right? Not many people saw it, so it's all okay... until one afternoon..._

_My Latin teacher: So... What do you play, Rebecca?_

_Me: Percussion... and I'm going to start vocals in Stage Band..._

_L.T. (Latin Teacher): Really? How was the concert the other afternoon? (I was involved in a singing concert at the local shopping centre, which meant I got the afternoon off school... and Latin. Hence the question)  
Me: It sucked._

_L.T.: Ahh... :Laughs: Why?_

_Me: It just did. We went last... It sucked. _

_L.T.: And I also hear you're somewhat of an actress...?_

_Me: Oh crap._

_L.T.:laughs:_

_Me: Oh god no..._

_L.T.: You would have been very young when you did that... how old were you?_

_Me: 11..._

_L.T.: Really... Well... it was a very good movie... Very funny...You're quite an actress..._

_Me: Oh crap… Blast, Bugger, Shitè, damn, crap, crap, crap…. :runs off:_

_:groans: I am never going to live this down..._

_**A/N Add in:** Hey Everyone! I'm really sorry that this update took sooooo long! I had tons of assignments to do, My Year camp, Band Tour in Dubbo, Exams, Reports, Parent Teacher night bookings, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince to read (6 hours - new record... Shut up. I already know I'm a huge dork...)and on top of ALL that... My normal life timetable..._

_So I didn't have much time to write..._

_But anyway: Here's the next chapter, and I'll TRY to get 17 up A.S.A.H.P. (As soon as humanly possible)_

* * *

**Chapter 16 - Vere Aperire**

* * *

Tin-tin and Tara sat in silence, Tin-tin trying to desperately take in all this new information Tara had given her. 

'_No wonder the girl's so messed up...'_ Tin-tin took a deep breath, and turned to the blonde girl.

"You can't beat yourself up about this Tars... It wasn't your fault that he turned out to be a gigantic asshole... Sometimes you just get dud guys... Like... Sometimes they can say one thing and do another... or have a public face, and then let his true nature show when you're alone with him..." Tin-tin scooted closer to the girl, and put her arm around her, squeezing her shoulders.

"It's alright, Tars... We're all here for you... Just you remember that... I mean... Outside, and up on Thunderbird 5, are 5 guys that would do nothing other than protect you... I mean... from what I hear, Alan and Gordon already beat the, pardon my French, shit out of someone... What he did... wasn't your fault. Don't beat yourself up about it... I know it's easier said than done, but get over him... We're here to help you..." Tara nodded, wiping a tear off her cheek.

Somehow - just the thought of knowing she had someone she could talk to and trust made her feel better.

Tin-tin was right. Josh wasn't worth it.

Just that actualization made her spirits rise.

.1.1.1.1.

Tin-tin emerged from Tara's room, a grin spreading over her features.

Gordon, Scott, Alan and Virgil greeted her with concern dancing in their eyes.

"Is Ra-ra alright?" Tin-tin shot a reproachful glance at Gordon, before nodding, her grin returning.

"I know what was wrong with her..."

"And...?"

"Alan... She doesn't want you all to know... But I can tell you... I think she'll be okay from now on..."

Alan tried to keep a somber face, a feeling of envy boiling inside him.

.1.1.1.1.

Alan Tracy paced around the kitchen, seething with jealousy.

'_Tara opened up to Tin-tin... TIN-TIN of ALL people... So what... I'm not good enough?'_

Behind him, Virgil and Scott exchanged sly glances, a silent, unspoken plan forming between the two.

Before Alan knew what had hit him, the middle Tracy, and the eldest Tracy had taken him by his arms, and were dragging him towards the water.

"Don't you dare! YOU'LL LIVE TO REGRET IT SCOTT CARPENTER TRACY! LET ME GO, VIRGIL GRISSOM TRACY!" The two boys ignored their brother's threats, and continued towards the pool.

With one final heave, Alan was sent soaring through the air, colliding with the water with an almighty splash.

The two brothers laughed, high-fiving each other with wide grins on their faces.

Alan re-surfaced, shooting daggers at his brothers, and hauling himself out of the water, his black button up shirt and baggy jeans soaking, and sticking to his muscular form.

His blonde hair was gelled to his forehead, covering his eyes, and each step he took left a puddle of water behind him.

The elder Tracy's couldn't help but crack up laughing at the sight of the youngest.

Alan was glowering as he trudged upstairs - planning revenge on the two of them.

.1.1.1.1.

Over the next few days, there was an obvious change in Tara's behavior -

She began to eat properly again, without being force fed; She was smiling a lot more; and her whole manner changed back to what Gordon called "Classic Tara".

Tin-tin was walking around the house quite satisfied with herself, and Alan has since extracted revenge on Scott and Virgil for the pool throwing incident, and had seemingly gotten over his envy.

So, in other words, everything was fine and dandy in Tracy Household. Hunky Dory, if you will. Fabulous. B.E.A-utiful... I'll stop now.

Alan was seated by the pool, his eyes closed, taking in the warm sunlight, when he heard a splash.

He lazily opened an eye, spying a figure swimming evenly from end to end of the pool.

Thinking nothing of it, he closed his eyes again, basking in the warmth.

The figure, however, didn't stop, and continued swimming laps of the pool, a sense of exhilaration building in her body as she continued to swim.

After a few minutes, she stopped, and just floated in the water, the coolness washing over her.

She felt calm.

Alan opened his eyes once the sound had stopped, and sat up, raising an eyebrow.

"Tari?"

Tara opened her eyes, looking up at the youngest Tracy.

"What?" Amusement flickered over Alan's features.

"You alright there?" She rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine Alan... I just felt like swimming..." He smiled gently, Tara taking back to her feet, and putting a hand on her hip.

"What?" He shook his head, grabbing his towel, and heading back inside.

"What?" Tara couldn't help but raise her eyebrow.

Something had gotten into Alan as of late...

She wasn't sure whether she liked it or not...

.1.1.1.1.

"We'll see you in a few weeks!" Tin-tin waved to the boys, her boat pulling out from the shore.

"Bye Tin-tin!" Gordon gave his last strangled cry, watching his girlfriend and her father leave - Tin-tin having decided that her father needed some time off.

With a heavy sigh, he shuffled back inside with his brothers - avoiding eye contact with the youngest Tracy.

Scott and Virgil both exchanged glances - silently agreeing that maybe it was time for them to act.

.1.1.1.1.

"_... Mayday! Mayday! Calling International Rescue! This is the 'Jabitha'! Mayday! We need help!"_

John was jolted from his light sleep, overhearing the call. Immediately, he stood, racing over to the radios, and intercepting the hail.

"This is International Rescue..."

"International Rescue!" The voice cried in desperation, "We need help! Our ship is sinking off the coast of New Zealand! There's a nasty storm blowing aroun--"

The connection crackled and died off, John quickly scrawling what notes he could down, and sliding along in his wheelie chair towards the base radio.

"International Rescue base, this is Thunderbird 5..."

.1.1.1.1.

"...So that's the situation boys... There's a boat out there, off the coast of New Zealand, caught up in a storm..." Jeff informed his sons, a grave expression plastered on his face.

Brains sat quietly in the corner, musing silently to himself.

"M…M...Mr. Tracy... T...The J...Jabitha's a s...sc...sci...scientific vessel... M...M...May--"

"You'd like to come along on the rescue?" Virgil prompted softly.

"Exactly,"

Jeff heaved a light sigh.

"I don't know Brains..." He leant back in his chair, surveying the man over his fingers.

Jeff sighed again, and gave a light nod to signify his consent.

"You can go Brains... but be careful..."

"T...thank-you M... Mr. Tra…Tracy..."

"Alright boys... I'm coming on this one too..."

"But father..." Alan piped up, "What about Tara... We can't leave her here alone..."

"You're right... We can't..."

"Someone needs to stay here to make sure she doesn't do anything stupid..."

A sly smile broke out over Jeff's face.

"I'm glad you're volunteering, Alan... Then it's settled. You can stay here..." He silenced his youngest with a glance, "Alright boys... Thunderbirds are go..."

Alan sulked back to his room, not even bothering to wait around for his brothers to leave.

He was _not_ happy.

The youngest Tracy collapsed on his bed, and looked out the window, spying the tail end of Thunderbird 2, the engines in full flame, the giant green beast getting smaller as it traveled into the horizon.

He rolled onto his back, and looked up at the ceiling, heaving a sigh.

This wasn't fair in the least.

.1.1.1.1.

About twenty minutes after Alan finished sulking - which was approximately 40 minutes since the Thunderbirds left; the gathering clouds finally let all hell loose, rain falling heavily, the patter echoing through the primarily empty house.

The blonde Tracy trudged back up to his room, and closed the door lightly, pulling off his shirt, and changing into his pj's - which consisted of a pair of navy track pants, and a tight, white shirt.

After this, he dumped his clothing in the washing hamper, and checked in on Tara - finding her curled up in bed, hugging a teddy bear he hadn't seen since she was 9 - a birthday gift he'd given her.

Tip-toeing quietly back to his room, he pulled back the sheets, and slid into his own bed, flicking off the lamp, and trying to sleep in the rainstorm.

A few minutes later, the thunder started.

An overwhelming boom resonated throughout the house, followed soon after by a startled yelp... At least Alan thought it was a startled yelp...

Alan opened his eyes, letting them adjust into focus about his dark room. He rolled onto his side, and looked out the window, as the rain pattered against it harder. Hearing nothing more than the sounds of the storm, he decided it was nothing, and settled back into his pillows.

Another crash of thunder sounded, and this time, Alan was sure he heard a whimper, followed by the patter of feet on the floor outside his room.

The sound was faint - but was definitely there.

He rolled onto his back, and sighed lightly, the sounds of the rainfall increasing.

His bedroom door opened silently - so much so he didn't even notice - and then it closed again.

A flash of lightning illuminated every dark corner of his room, including the figure of a young girl.

Alan gave a manly scream - of course - in shock... Most of it was drowned out by the thunder crack.

"Alan...?" Her voice was soft; barely more than a faint whisper.

"Tari?" He rasped quietly, "What's wrong..."

She shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

"I'm... umm..." She sighed lightly, "I'm a little..."

"Scared of the storm?" Alan supplied hopefully.

Tara nodded, a reply which Alan barely picked up in the flash of lightning that lit up the room.

Alan kicked off his covers, and walked over to the girl, grasping for her hand in the darkness.

He squeezed it reassuringly, and led her back to her room.

"Just try to get some sleep, Tari... Call me if you need me..." She clambered back into her own bed, Alan pulling the sheets up to tuck her in.

Even in the darkness, Alan could tell the girl was pouting.

"I'm not a baby, Al... I can tuck myself in..." He chuckled lightly, and handed her the teddy bear she was hugging before.

"Sure you can, Tari... Sure you can..." She stuck out her bottom lip, and lay back on her pillows.

Alan cast one more glance at her, before heading back to his room.

A few more minutes of relative silence past, before an unusually loud crack of thunder rattled the windows, and Tara let out a scream.

"Alan!" The boy kicked back his covers - again, and came racing into her room - where Tara sat on her bed, her covers drawn up to her neck, and her eyes wide with fear.

As soon as Alan opened the door, she immediately leapt up, and ran straight into his arms.

"Al..." Alan hobbled into her room, awkwardly backing her inside.

"Sssh... It's okay, Tari... I'm here..." He ran his fingers through her shoulder-length blonde hair, and down her back, where they came to rest on the small of her back.

"Al..." She put her chin on his chest, her grey eyes looking into his blue ones.

Another crack of thunder broke her concentration.

Tara jumped slightly, letting out a yelp.

Alan tightened his grip around her, speaking softly to her, and soothing the frightened girl.

"It's okay, Tari... I'm here now... You'll be just fine..."

She looked back up at him, her eyes boring into his, Tara's heart beating faster in her chest - the connection between them wordlessly forming... and slowly, their faces leant in, creeping in a millimeter at a time, until finally -

Their lips met softly... sweetly...

In almost an instant, Tara forgot everything around her.

All there was; all that mattered was him.

.1.1.1.1.

_**A/N** Oh God. That was just like some cheap, sappy romance novel! ... I need to stop hanging around Alison... she's influenced my sappy side... But anyway... THEY KISSED! HAR-HAR! My evil work has reached it's first milestone! I'm going to go and mark this in my diary._

_Tara and Alan shared their first kiss... cue the sappy music... Aww..._

_Anyway - rest assured, this is far from the end._

_Fa-ar from the end, in-fact._

_I mean, I've actually written the last chapter... and no, It's not Chapter 17._

_Anyway... There you have Chapter 16: Vere Aperire (Latin: To reveal the truth)!_

_I hope you all enjoyed it, and now scroll down to that fantastic little button that says "SUBMIT REVIEW" and "GO". Write a nice message, and there you have it. A review :) ... Yes... that was my attempt at being tactful._

_And before I forget..._

_Review Replies!_

_**Kayleigh:** _:blushes: Thankyou for your comments! They really made my day... after finishing all of my stupid school assignments... BURN IN HELL, New English Teacher, BURN IN HELL:ahem:...

_**Fried Eeyore:** _I'm so sorry to hear about your Grandfather... It's a pain I know all too well... I still miss mine, and he died when I was in year 6...

_**Jnr Cpl Nottingham:** _Yeah... I figured Tara and Tin-tin - being really the only girls on the island whenever Tara visted - would have been pretty close... I hope you have/had fun on R.A.F camp... My friend went on hers last week... She had a good time, so I hope you did/will too!

_And finally_

**_money makes me smile:_** I'm so sorry this took so long, but I had tons of English work to do... AND IT'S THE SCHOOL HOLIDAYS! HOW COULD MY NEW ENGLISH TEACHER DO THAT TO US! Just because we're the top class... It's injustice I tell you!

Anyway... Chapter Y takes place when Tara's in college, which isn't that far off - She's going to be heading into her last year at School this year, and then her exams... And the chapter before it, Chapter X - talks about Tara's part time job, which Alan gate crashes... heh-heh...

_Thanks again everyone! You really make this simple teenage girl's day by letting her know what you think of this story!_

_So... keep an eye out for Chapter 17: Falling for you; coming to a computer screen near you!_

_LoL. I'm really in such a cheesy mood... is it obvious?_

_The Faerie_


	17. Falling For You

_**A/N** I really haven't done this for a while... so I should..._

_I don't own anything you recognize! That belongs to the fantastically talented Gerry and Silvia Anderson!_

_I do, however, own the rights to Tara... :Homer Simpson moment: PATENT PENDING! (Gosh I'm an idiot...)_

_Ahem. Tara's mine... oh, and so is Josh... but you can throw bricks at him for all I care... But not Tara. I like her._

_So there :pokes tongue out immaturely:_

* * *

**Chapter 17: **Falling for You

* * *

A loud thud from downstairs made the two break apart. 

"WE'RE BACK!"

Almost immediately, a pink flush crept into Tara's cheeks, and she looked down, and away - in a disbelief of what she'd just done.

"Alan! Tara! We're home!"

Tara looked back up towards her door, and then swiftly headed through it, her cheeks burning in awkward embarrassment.

She glided down the stairs with an angelic grace, shooting a peaceful smile at Gordon, Virgil, Scott and Jeff.

"Eventful rescue, I take it?" she asked, her mind slowly quieting itself.

Scott and Virgil exchanged curious glances.

"It wasn't bad..." Gordon raised an eyebrow, "You alright there Ra-ra?"

Tara shot the red-head a fuming glare.

"Don't... call... me... that..."

- - - - -

Meanwhile, Alan found himself pacing around his room, his chaotic mind desperately trying to find order and calm.

"... She kissed me...

... Or did I kiss her...

... She..."

.1.1.1.1.

" ... I kissed him..." Tara collapsed face down on her bed, and heaved a loud, frustrated groan.

"I can't believe I did that... I can't believe I..."

.1.1.1.1.

"... Did something that stupid! I took advantage of her... I'm such an idiot!" Alan hit his head against the wall, the thud resonating through the room.

"She was still recovering..."

.1.1.1.1.

"From his breakup with Tin-tin! I fucking took advantage of him! God! I'm such a fucking dimwit!" Tara buried her face under her pillow.

"I'm an idiot. A big, stupid, thickheaded, bitch of an idiot..."

She took her pillow off her face, and stared at the ceiling of her room.

"I just won't say anything about it to him..." she sat up slowly.

"If he meant something by the kiss..."

.1.1.1.1.

"... Then she'll say something to me. I'll know if it was a mistake or not if she talks to me..."

.1.1.1.1.

"... So if he doesn't say anything, then the kiss never happened," Tara stood triumphantly, amazed with her own brilliance.

In a nearby room, another dirty blonde boy stood, proud at his logics.

"There. All settled," He stretched his arms, before flicking off the light switch, and crawling into his bed.

All that thinking tired Alan out, and he wasn't ashamed to say it...

But of course... never to anyone's face.

His eyes closed, and he immediately fell into a dream filled sleep, the dreams revolving around that thin, gorgeous daughter of Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward.

.1.1.1.1.

"So... headed back to school tomorrow, eh Tara?" Tara looked up from her breakfast at Scott, who grinned.

Tara just rolled her eyes.

"Gee Scott, thanks for reminding me..." A week had passed since the incident, Alan and Tara both pretending nothing happened - which suited them both rather perfectly.

Gordon laughed at Tara's sarcastic tone.

"Classic" Tara was back.

"You all packed and ready for School?" Virgil piped up, Tara shooting him a flaming glare.

"Yes. Now, let's stop discussing school. In case you haven't realized, I've spent the past few weeks catching up on all I've missed last term. I never want to see the term "Quadratic Equations" ever again. I'd rather die than face Physics, and if someone mentions to me the secrets of how you should get a soufflé to rise properly one more time, I'll take that soufflé and shove it up their as--"

"Tara..." Jeff gave the girl a reprimanding glance, and she pouted, crossing her arms across her chest.

The blonde pushed her plate back, and stood up.

"I'm going upstairs for a bit..." she declared to the family, before racing up, and into her room.

Scott, Virgil and Gordon exchanged glances.

.1.1.1.1.

When the sun set that evening, Tara was walking along the beach, a stiff wind sending chills down her spine as she squished the sand between her toes.

Her white sarong billowed in the gusts of wind, catching her hair in a similar fashion.

She couldn't help but shiver a little at the winds as they brushed over her skin.

Tara climbed up on a boulder, watching the pinks, oranges and blues as the sun sank beyond the horizon.

She tightened the ties on her white string bikini, and heaved a light sigh.

Behind her, Tara could have almost sworn she heard a rustling.

Her skin crawled at the thought of someone stalking her, but she didn't want to jump to conclusions, it could have been the wind...

The rustling seemed closer this time, and she'd definitely heard a twig snapping.

That was no wind.

There was someone following her.

She jumped down from her rock, backing up near the jungle with a sly grace.

Behind her, she heard the rustling again, but her arm shot out, and grabbed someone by the wrist.

She pulled forward, and jolted them on their back, knocking the wind from their form.

Tara couldn't help but raise her eyebrows.

"Scott?"

The Tracy boy gasped for air, and her eyebrows, she could have sworn, disappeared into her hairline.

"And you were doing, what exactly?" Scott, it appeared, regained some composure, because she almost immediately heard a shout.

"VIRGIL! RUN!" Tara crossed her arms over her chest, and furrowed her brow in bemusement.

"Do you guys not trust me, or something!" She exclaimed in a quiet anger, Scott flushing under her glare.

"Well, you haven't exactly given us incentive, Tara..." He tried to keep his voice calm, so as not to provoke any attack from the girl.

"Thanks... you can leave now... I'm going to finish my walk, and keep clearing my mind... Shadow me again, and I'll ensure you never father any children..." Tara strolled off, ignoring the sounds of the boy behind her.

"...Idiot..." she mumbled angrily, continuing her stroll along the beach, back towards the Tracy house.

As much as it pained her to admit it, she would miss this place when she was back at school...

And it's occupants...

Yes, even Gordon.

.1.1.1.1.

The next morning, Tara dragged her suitcases down the stairs, finding her mother and Parker in the living room, having tea with Jeff.

"Ah, Tara! You're ready to get back to Thorntree?" Jeff asked warmly, Tara resisting the urge to reply with an icy sarcasm. She forced herself to smile.

"Oh. Totally," Jeff couldn't help but laugh at the lack of enthusiasm in her reply, but said nothing.

"Well Tara, dear... we'd best be getting you back to the academy," Penelope rose with a lady-like grace, "Thankyou for taking care of her, Jeff,"

Jeff Tracy smiled.

"Any time, Penny, Any time..."

.1.1.1.1.

"TARA!" Tara bid her mother a quick goodbye, and took her bags to the entrance hall, where the luggage of every other student was dropped, before being delivered to their dorms.

"Lara!" the blonde was enveloped in a group hug from her friends after her mother and butler left.

"Hey guys..." she grinned widely, following them out to the field, where they all collapsed under their tree.

"How was your Christmas/New Year?" Linda asked, sitting cross legged near the blonde.

Tara shrugged.

"Rather uneventful... Yours?"

"Meh..." Linda muttered, before her eyes opened wide.

"Except Dan got me this bracelet!" She thrust it under Tara's nose, and the girl couldn't help but giggle.

"Nice, Linda... Nice..."

Jenny smirked.

"She hasn't shut up about it since she got it... It's been painful..." Tara couldn't help but laugh.

"How nice..."

Monique rolled over on the grass, and put her head on Tara's legs.

"I feel like sneaking out tonight... how about you?"

Tara grinned.

"Oh. Totally,"

.1.1.1.1.

Tara, Monique, Linda and Lara all snuck out that night - Jenny staying behind to cover for them if Thicket came to their room.

"Oi Tars..." Lara elbowed her friend, and Tara turned around to face the girl with the mop of black curls.

"What's up?" Lara pointed at a piercing parlor, and Tara grinned devilishly.

"Why Ms. Firth... I do believe that is the best idea you've had all night," Lara smirked.

"Come on, Tara dearest..." Lara and Tara linked arms, the two heading straight over to the parlour.

Linda and Monique shrugged, and followed their friends inside.

.1.1.1.1.

The next morning, Tara awoke in her bed, awoke with a sharp pain in her bellybutton.

She got up, flinching as her soft, bare skin came in contact with the stone floors of the academy, and she walked over to the floor length mirror in their room.

She lifted up her night shirt, and immediately gawked.

As soon as she saw the silver stud, one thought popped into her mind.

'_... Mother is going to kill me..._'

* * *

_**A/N** Heh. I made my 4 week deadline! So you all can't kill me! So there:pokes tongue out just as immaturely as she did at the beginning of the chapter:_

_At any rate, I love you all who've reviewed and stayed with me over this long wait for an update - and again, I'm really sorry._

_My school performing ensembles are currently entered in the "McDonalds Performing Arts Challenge" - The concert Band (For which I drum) competed last week, and we came 2nd... Ha. Public School Power!_

_And then, I had the Da Vinci decathalon, where a friend and I spent the entire time perving on Knox boys... Oh shuddup. It was more fun than the questions we were given to answer... Stop looking at me like that..._

_And then, I had to practice Rudiments for my percussion tutor, who, according to a close friend of mine, is on crack... I remain adamant that 'ding is terribly misguided._

_And finally, I have to practice a)Guitar, b) Rudiments, and c) Orchestra music for the "McDonalds Performing Arts Challenge" on Wednesday night._

_Wish us luck!_

_Before I forget, though,_

_Review Responses:_

Kayleigh: _LoL. Thanks for the review. In fact, I'll join you with a wacky irish jig :jigs away from the computer:_

Mae: _LoL. Short but sweet. Thanks for the review_

Black Leaves: _I hope you liked this chapter! Thanks for the review and positive comments :)_

Money makes me Smile: _LoL. Yeah. I'm not fairly anti-sap. It just... happened... I feel so... un-me-ish... LoL. Thanks for reviewing!_

Gorgeous Nick Stokes: _I'm glad you liked the chapter, and my story! I hope this one didn't disappoint, either!_

Jnr Cpl Scarlett: _OMG! I KNOW! HOW COULD SHE DO THAT! Dumbie :bawls stupidly_:

Jnr Cpl Nottingham: _Congrats on your marks! And yes, I've seen the trailer! I can't wait! (Dw... I'm hp mad to... my friend and I were so lame in trig the other day (Bec: Hey Courtney! Look! It's Angle GOF! Courtney: HAHAHAHA! NICE ONE BEREKARAKAROO!) LoLz. Thanks for reviewing_

_Again - Thanks everyone for your positive comments and reviews! You guys rock!_

_Anyway, I should update in less than two months... okay... less than one month..._

_I'm giving myself deadlines now..._

_You guys owe me... they're hard to keep._

_**The Faerie**_

_P.S. Don't forget to check out my re-edited new story, "Unexpected"._

_It's a Lily/James fiction, and a re-edit of my very, very, very first fanfiction at age 11... 12... I forget how old I was..._

_P.P.S. This Chapter was dedicated to Dumbie... We'll miss you, you crazy headmaster! (Oh shuddup. Well aware I'm weird)_


	18. Moment of Truth

_**A/N** Heh... About the last chapter... there WERE review replies there... you just had to look REEEEAL close to see them..._

_Okay, Okay. My Bad. Chapter content has been replaced, though, to include replies._

* * *

**Chapter 18**: Moment of Truth

* * *

Tara tugged on her uniform, sitting down in the common room dressed before any of her friends got up.

Lara, it appeared, was the first to rise, and was oddly hung-over from their previous night's activities. Tara couldn't help but be remotely confused by this - The girls could honestly say they hadn't had anything to drink last night.

"Morning..." the blonde greeted her friend, and Lara grunted in reply. Tara smirked.

"How nice to be loved, Lara Firth. How nice," Lara shot Tara a death glare, pulling on her own just-above-the-knee length, red tartan skirt. She buttoned up her long sleeved blouse, and tugged on her grey jumper, pushing her sleeves up, with the ends of her white blouse overhanging the sleeves, and folded up. Lara straightened her collar, and draped her red and white tie over her shoulders, before sitting down near Tara, and tugging up her white, knee length socks, and buckled up her Mary-janes.

Tara rolled her eyes rather emphatically.

The raven haired girl tugged a comb through her tangle of curls, and eventually gave up, tying it up behind her in a messy bun.

Tara flicked her own straight shoulder-length blonde hair over her shoulder, and Lara glared.

"Damn you and your straight hair," her eyes darted around the room, and she launched herself at a pair of tweezers.

"Aha! Now your hair will be mine!" Tara chuckled, holding up her hands at her friend.

"Down girl. I know you have a headache now, so it'd be better just to stay quiet," She raised her eyebrows to emphasise the word, and Lara just gave her the finger.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up Tars,"

"I love you too, Lara,"

.1.1.1.1.

"Alright girls! Performance lesson!" Ms. Morrissey clapped her hands, sending the senior music class off to their task.

Tara exchanged a glance with Monique, and the two picked up the school's electric guitars, Tara clutching the ebony instrument by the neck.

She sat down, and laid the guitar on her lap, wincing as it nudged her belly button.

All day the area had been tender, and she felt repulsed at the idea of telling her mother, knowing full well Lady Penelope would murder her daughter.

Monique shot Tara a sympathetic glance, and began strumming away at the guitar.

The blonde looked down at her own guitar, and started to tune it without another thought.

Music was one of Tara's favourite classes - the girls managing to trick their young teacher, Ms. Morrissey, into several performance lessons a week. Morrissey didn't mind - she was by far the nicest of all the teachers at Thorntree, and, being an ex-student, was aware of the wrath of Thicket.

"You alright, Tara?" Ms. Morrissey leaned against a nearby desk, and Tara's gaze shot up.

"Hmm? Oh yes Miss..." Ella Morrissey chuckled, shaking her head at the girl.

"You and Miss. Firth didn't sneak out last night did you?" Tara let a smile play around her lips.

"No miss! Of course not!" the teacher laughed, patting Tara on the back.

"Good job at not getting caught, Tara..."

Tara grinned widely, and watched her teacher talk with the other students.

Monique cleared her throat, and the blonde looked over.

"Three Days Grace or what?"

.1.1.1.1.

_2 ½ months later_

"Heh. Another school year over..." Tara grabbed a bread roll from one of the platters on her house table.

"To think... When we come back here... we'll be in our last year..." Linda spoke, a subdued awe in her voice.

Lara couldn't help but let out yelp of glee.

... Needless to say, Tara got a detention...

... Monique had to hold her back from throwing a bread roll, or nearby bread knife at the back of Thicket's head...

... Lara chucked it instead...

... And Tara's been given a week of wood chopping detentions...

... Jenny finds the whole ordeal hilarious...

... Tara threw an apple at her head...

... Jenny's currently in the hospital wing recovering.

.1.1.1.1.

Tara shifted awkwardly from one foot to another as she waited for Penelope and Parker to pick her up.

She was wearing her school uniform - after the final assembly of the year - and she wrung her hands nervously, wincing at the thought of her mother discovering the belly piercing.

Tara had now had her navel pierced for over 2 months, and had grown used to it, as well as comfortable with the belly bar.

She had no doubts about the boys - in fact, Gordon would most likely congratulate her on her rebellion - but Jeff and Penelope would rant.

'_Jeff is always ranting about one thing or another, though,_' Tara thought, a grin playing over her lips, '_Generally its Alan..._'

Alan...

Tara closed her eyes to the thought of the dirty blonde haired boy. She'd tried to forget about the incident in the last holidays as best she could - changing her train of thought every time something remotely resembled Alan popped into her mind.

But now she knew she couldn't escape the kiss.

She'd be staying at Tracy island for these holidays, "working with International Rescue", as her mother put it.

Tara closed her eyes tighter.

'_That means they'll go out on a rescue... and it'll just be him and me al--_' Tara's eyes sprung open, cutting off the last thought.

"No..." she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

"Alan's just a friend. Nothing else..." she reassured herself, "We were just confused... that's all..."

There was a horn blast, and Tara spied the pink limousine swinging up by the front of the school. She waved a quick farewell to Jenny, and raced down the stairs, leaping into Parker's arms.

"Parker!" The old butler grinned.

"It's noyse to see you too, Lil' Lady..." Tara grinned, and slid into the limo, next to her mother, who also enveloped her in a hug.

"I'm glad to see you're happier than last holidays, dear..." Tara pouted playfully, Parker giving the two ladies a smile through his driver's mirror.

The pink limo pulled out of the parking lot, and Tara sighed, settling back into the comfortable seats, closing her eyes, and basking in the freedom.

She'd handle Alan when it became a problem.

For now, she wasn't going to let it worry her.

.1.1.1.1.

"Tara, darling..." Tara groggily opened her eyes, blinking as her grey/blue orbs adjusted to the sunlight.

"We're here..."

It took some time for Tara to realise that they were, indeed, parked rather soundly in the drive of the Tracy abode.

She sat up and stretched sluggishly as Parker opened the door for her. She shot him a grateful grin, and got out of the limo, straightening her school skirt and blouse, and tugging up her knee length socks.

Penelope watched her daughter fondly, Tara stretching her arms up, the blouse riding up above her belly button, a small stud catching and glinting in the sunlight.

Penelope's face drained of colour, and she immediately opened her mouth.

"Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward... WHAT exactly is THAT?" Tara paled, and dropped her arm to her sides, tugging the blouse down with her.

"What exactly is what, Mother?"

"Did you get your navel pierced?" Penelope pushed, Tara shifting awkwardly from one foot to another.

"Do you want the truth, or do you want to hear what you'd like to hear?" She asked sheepishly, her hands gripping the bottom of her shirt tensely.

"Tara..." Penelope spoke in a tone reminiscent of Jeff's, making the girl's stomach drop lower.

"Ra-Ra! Lady P!" Tara glanced over her mother's shoulder long enough to see 4 Tracy's emerge from inside the house. Penelope shot Tara a disapproving glare, before turning to greet Jeff.

"Penny! Tara! Wonderful to see you two again!" The boys surrounded Tara, engulfing her in a "group hug", or a "Let's-all-pile-on-Tara", as Gordon affectionately puts it.

Tara couldn't help but giggle, shoving the Tracy boys off her. Her mother seemed distracted. This was goo--

"Now Tara Belle, care to tell me what is sticking out of your navel?"

-- Spoke too soon.

Tara felt her face grow hot as she realised everyone was staring at her expectantly.

"Nothing..." she mumbled, averting her gaze.

"Tara Belle..." she winced, hearing Jeff speak up in a tone he reserved only for Alan, Gordon and particularly stupid members of the Coast Guard.

The boys, on the other hand, seemed supportive of Tara, surrounding her, trying to see the stud.

"You got your belly button pierced? No way!" Gordon grinned widely, Tara's face flushing darker.

"For real? Man! That is so cool Ra-ra!" Virgil shared his brother's grin.

"Did it hurt?" Scott piped up.

"Alright! Signs of teenage rebellion!" Alan grinned, making Tara feel all that more awkward.

Penelope and Jeff just stood firm, looking completely unimpressed.

"Tara Belle, I expected better of you..." Jeff spoke firmly, frown lines creasing his brow.

She stared blankly at her feet.

"Dad, so what if Tara got her belly pierced! WHO CARES! Doesn't hurt us in any way. Her body, she can do what she likes with it," Tara was never more grateful to have Virgil on her side.

"Exactly. I mean really, Don't even TRY to pretend you don't think it's cool," Gordon slung his arm over Tara's shoulders.

"Now... let's go eat. I am _starving_," Penelope shook her head, sighed, and turned towards the house, heading inside.

Tara finally looked up, and over at Parker, who winked slyly at her, and helped her with her bags.

And because she simply couldn't help it, Tara grinned too.

It was nice to be back.

"Okay... What do you do when there's an emergency call over the radio?" Tara stared boredly at her nails.

Jeff cleared his throat, and she looked up.

"Tara?"

"Ask for a name, location and situation update?" Jeff raised his eyebrows.

"And...?"

"Injuries?"

"In addition to...?"

"Supply situation?"

"As well as...?"

Tara bit her lip.

"Next of Kin?"

"Tara!" Jeff cradled his head in his hands.

"Alan, tell her..." Alan grinned.

"Nature of the emergency. Mayday, Pan-Pan etcetera. You also need to know the medium of the accident... so we know what to send out..." There was a pink tinge in Tara's cheeks, and Alan's grin widened.

"It's okay... Took Gordon 5 rescues to learn that," Tara chuckled.

"That had, huh?" Alan smirked.

"You have no idea how slow that guy is..."

"Let's take a break..." Jeff swept from the room, leaving Tara and Alan seated in the office.

"So you guys are talking again?" Alan snorted.

"Oh hell no," Tara raised an eyebrow.

"Still? Alan! Whatever happened to "Forgive and Forget"?"

"He took a dive out a 14th storey window?" Tara rolled her eyes.

"You're horrid, Alan Tracy,"

"I love you too, Tari dear," Tara giggled lightly, batting him on the arm.

"'Course you do! I'm just so lovable!"

'_Don't I know it..._' Alan thought with a light sigh, '_Don't I know it...'_

* * *

_**A/N** Hah! It's out! It's finished:does a little dance: Now! Y'all know what to do!_

_Oh, and Review Replies_

_**Zoe N:** Thanks so much! I'm glad you liked it, and I hope this didn't disappoint!_

_**Amy:** Heh. Age old paternal question. I hate to say this, but I can't tell! You'll all find out when she's 18!_

_**Jnr Cpl Scarlet:** He-he. right in one. If the two people involved realised their feelings, that's not entertaining... that's sodding perfection:sniff: Why can't that happen in real life? LoL. Thanks for reviewing!_

_**Kayleigh:** Heh. I made it in less than a month... 2 days less than a month:does a little jig:_

_**Mae:** LoL. We do need to stick together! We do! Thanks for the review!_

_**Ella:** He-he. Thanks for reviewing!_

_**Money Makes me Smile:** He-he-he. Yay:narrowly escapes poison again: I hope you enjoyed that chapter:)_

_And before I forget, I've now decided. Stuff the deadlines..._

_... Blackmail is so much better._

_5 reviews for Unexpected, and 19 will be out._

_Chapter 20 will definitely be out at Halloween though._

_I know that much..._

_... Which should tell you it's a themed chapter._

_At any rate, Thanks again to all my fantastic reviewers, you really made my day!_

_The Faerie_

_P.S. We got Highly commended in the performing arts challenge - Pretty good for a Public school._

_P.P.S. Eldest is out! Yes:does a little jig around her room:_

_P.P.P.S. I'm going away in 2 weeks guys! I am sooooo sorry, but I can't update up till the 1st of October. I'll be on an island off Australia! Sorry about that!_

_Right I'm really going now._

_The Faerie..._

_... Yes I'm actually going._

_Stop looking shocked._


	19. Aye, Aye Captain!

_**A/N** :listening to Simon - Lifehouse:_

* * *

**Chapter 19**: Aye Aye, Captain

* * *

The rest of the holidays passed rather uneventfully for Tara, spare the time Gordon somehow managed to dye his hair a vibrant shade of hot pink.

At any rate, soon enough, she was back at school, staring at the looming double doors of Thorntree Academy with dread.

She lugged her bags up the stairs, and dumped them with the rest in the entrance hall, before tracking down Lara, Linda, Monique and Jenny near the kitchens.

"NO FREAKING WAY!" Monique yelped as Tara approached, Tara raising her eyebrows, but not saying a word. Finally, someone caught sight of her.

"Tars!" Linda raced over, engulfing her friend in a warm hug. The blonde laughed, hugging her back.

"Hey guys!" Jenny and Monique exchanged sly glances, smirking behind their hands.

"Hey Tars, has Thicket seen you yet?" Tara groaned loudly.

"Oh no... what have I done now?" Jenny chuckled.

"Just you wait, Tars... Just you wait..."

Tara raised an eyebrow, but didn't push the topic...

... and she didn't need to...

"MISS CREIGHTON-WARD!" Thicket bellowed from the top of the staircase.

"MY OFFICE, NOW!" Tara winced, and followed the overweight woman up the stairs.

.1.1.1.1.

"You're kidding..." The blonde teenager was shocked.

"I'm afraid not, Miss. Creighton-Ward... It seems you have been elected as our School Captain..."

"B...But I didn't-- How can this be? I didn't get--" Tara couldn't help but laugh, before noticing the Headmistress wasn't even amused.

"So this captaincy is legit, then?" she leaned back in her chair.

Thicket was glowering.

"Unfortunately, Yes, Miss. Creighton-Ward..."

Tara smirked.

"Okay, you can level with me, Headmistress... Who bribed you?" Thicket's right eye began to twitch.

"Or more importantly... How much were you bribed? Cuz, you know... must have been a lot..." Tara leaned back, steepling her fingers.

"... or maybe you really like me, under than mean exterior, you've decided I'm not half--"

"THAT IS IT MISS. CREIGTON-WARD! I AM DOUBLING YOUR DETENTIONS!" Tara winced slightly.

"Ooh Damn... well... at least that's proved this is a legit captaincy... I presume Mary-Sue's vice?" Thicket sat back down, nodding slightly.

"Miss. Pleasant is there to ensure you don't turn this school into a hell hole," Tara smirked.

"Ouch. That stung, Thicket... That stung..." Thicket glowered, pointing at the door.

"Please leave, Miss. Creighton-Ward. You'll find your badge and luggage have been brought to the Captain's dormitories,"

Tara grinned, and stood, curtseying slightly, and heading out the door.

At the bottom of the stairs, she met a grinning Lara, smirking Monique, sneering Jenny, and euphoric Linda.

Suddenly all the pieces fell into place.

"_She'll never suspect a thing..." A few quiet giggles started, and Tara rolled over, blinking as she slowly woke up._

"_Who won't?" Jenny looked like she was about to feint._

"_Mary-Sue..." Monique blurted out, and the girls nodded hurriedly._

'_Mary-Sue my ass...'_ Tara thought grumpily.

"You guys did this!" Jenny grinned.

"Guilty,"

"Take it the headmistress didn't take the news too well then?" Tara snorted.

"If you call well doubling my detentions, then yeah! She totally did!" Lara slung an arm over Tara's shoulders.

"Oh Tars... we feel for you..." Tara shot her a glare.

"Oh shut up," Lara stood tall; her, Linda, Monique and Jenny springing to attention, and saluting the blonde.

"Aye, aye Captain Creighton-Ward!" Tara just stormed past the four girls.

"Sod off..."

Monique grinned.

"Oh, you know you love us Tara darling!"

"You keep telling yourself that, Neeks. You keep telling yourself that..."

* * *

_**A/N** Yes. It's short. I know. I'm sorry. It's my "Sorry I haven't updated in a while" chapter... that I wrote 10 minutes before my mum needed to steal my laptop._

_At any rate, Remember: CHAPTER TWENTY WILL BE OUT AT HALLOWEEN/ALL HALLOWS EVE!_

_Review Replies:_

_**cheryl**: I'm so glad you like the story... and I'm sorry the update is late too!_

_**Jnr Cpl Nottingham:** Haha. Teenage Revellion indeed. As for how many chapters left... I know exactly when it finishes, and it finishes with a wedding. Hold up. It's not Alan._

_**Zoe N:** Yay. I have enjoyed my Holidays. There was a hot guy on my plane... I think he tried to look down my shirt._

_**amy:** yes. I'm mean. Sorry :) Anyway, I'm glad you liked it, and I'll try to update faster!_

_**Mae:** Yes. There was no internet, phone lines, mobile signals, or really electric lights. It was painful_

_**e-anaid:** Oh yeah. My mum would murder me... so I'm going to wait until I move out, and then get something rebellious. I'm thinking navel piercing. If I get fed up with it, I can take it out, and the hole will close. Yeah. I probably wouldn't get a tattoo either. Thanks for reviewing!_

_**Squids Chick:** Haha. I'm glad you like it! Hope you liked that update... even if it is short._

_**Jnr Cpl Scarlett:** Yay! Me too! And Eldest was so good. I did NOT see that coming... meh. I'm blonde._

_**james4lily:** he-he. I updated. :) And my holiday was fun. Nice beaches and shirtless guys... he-he-he..._

_**money makes me smile:** Ahh. We've all been there. Thankyou so much:grins: I don't think I've ever been complimented that much because of my writing. You just made my day :) and I have to go to school tomorrow, so trust me - I needed it. :helicopter passes: he-he. And I think there were a few elements of both I like. I mean, what they did with the marionettes was amazing and fantastic, so I like the series, but the human touch in the movie was good too. Made it more realistic. Although, there were a few things in the movie I wasn't happy with. So... yes... I don't know if that answered your question, but there you go. Thanks again for the review_

_And with that, I bid you all a fond farewell._

_See you at Hallows!_

_The Faerie_


	20. Trick or Treat?

**

* * *

Chapter 20:** Trick or Treat?

* * *

The next month passed fairly quickly, Tara finding herself buried with School Captain duties - which she now completed during her detentions. 

Due to the 'Fairness to Delinquents Act' passed in 2010, Tara discovered that she wasn't allowed to complete detentions every night of the week, and he had to get at least one day a week off, as well as a Sunday.

After protesting this law to Headmistress Thicket, Tara found her Friday Nights free to enjoy.

After a month and a half, Tara found herself talking to her friends again - Jenny protesting loudly and continually that "They just did it for her," and "We thought you'd appreciate it,".

Of course, she only started speaking to them again when she realised that humming the newest song from Battered Saints wasn't the best idea because they did indeed get stuck in your head, and no matter how hard you bashed your head with your pillow, they didn't exactly get out of there. Even NothingSafe wasn't honestly "safe".

So, she grunted at Jenny.

The friendship re-built from there.

"I am TOTALLY going to the haunted house this year," Tara looked up from her breakfast of runny eggs, burnt bacon that Monique referred to as "Extra crispy", and what could be called a tomato - Tara felt the need to give it the last rites - and she raised her eyebrows.

"Jenny, last time you said that, we got you to the front door before you turned around and ran away screaming, with your tail between your legs,"

"Literally," Linda smirked, "_Scaredy-Cat_,"

Jenny was fuming.

"I was Catwoman! I had to have a tail! And Shut up!" Monique sniggered, but kept her mouth shut, exchanging an amused glance with Tara.

"Well, what are you going as this year?" Tara prompted gently.

"Yeah. We might need to work on a nickname advance of time," Lara continued, outraging Jenny all the more.

"Guys! You're supposed to be my supportive friends!"

"Supportive?" Tara drew a blank expression, "That was in the job description? Oh hell! Maybe I should quit then!"

"Thinking about the Captaincy, Miss. Creighton-Ward?" Thicket cleared her throat, and Tara grimaced, pulling a face at Monique, who was sitting across the table from her. The blonde then turned to face her headmistress, taking an innocent façade.

"No headmistress. Not at all," Thicket looked unamused.

"I trust you know about the Trick or Treating tradition the prefect body upholds?" Tara groaned. She really was hoping to weasel out of that one.

"But Headmistress. Halloween this year falls on a Thursday (_**A/N** Yes. I checked this up. It's set in the year 2069_)... That's not my night off. Isn't Trick or Treating considered a leisure activity? Even with our delightful preparatory girls, I can hardly see that as a punishment for my crude behaviour," Thicket sighed.

"Miss. Creighton-Ward. If you take your assigned group of prep girls Trick or Treating around London, you may have the rest of the night off - just leave them on the bus back to school at 7. If you complete this task properly, and they are all satisfied with you... I shall cut your detentions in half, and you can have Friday and Saturdays off,"

"Deal," God, Tara loved her mother being a democrat and teaching her how to barter and bargain.

And yes, Tara was aware she was probably going to end up paying for it somewhere along the line, but she honestly didn't care.

She Got Halloween off.

.1.1.1.1.

"I still say you should have let me go as a Hooker," Tara grumbled, boarding the bus with her friends to London. Monique smirked.

"Like I'd let you wear something remotely normal while we're forced into something stupid,"

Linda grinned.

"At least we didn't follow Jenny's idea of going as the Spice Girls," The girls collectively shivered.

Tara straightened her puffed out skirt.

"I still can't believe you guys made me come as Sleeping Beauty,"

"Come on! Aurora was cool! And now we're all Disney Princesses!"

Lara glowered.

"Do I look like _fucking_ Princess Jasmine to you!" She hissed, Tara barely holding in her laughter.

"Come on. I'm Belle, Monique's Pocahontas and Jenny's Cinderella! Don't be a killjoy, Lara!" Linda whined, the girls groaning.

"And I still can't believe the worst chicken insult we could come up with for Jenny was _Yellie Cinderelli_. Linda, Why did we ever listen to you?" Linda sniffed haughtily at Monique.

"You couldn't come up with anything better!"

"Could too--"

"Nuh-uh,"

"Screw you!"

"Ooh. I'm so sca--"

"Guys!" Tara and Lara exclaimed, Tara holding a hand to her head.

"Let's not bicker tonight, okay? Please?" The girls rolled their eyes.

"Now you've done it Linda! You've annoyed the Head girl!"

"School Captain, Dipshit," Tara muttered, looking out the bus window, sighing.

.1.1.1.1.

"We will meet you all back here at 7 o'clock. I trust you prefects will be sensible and stay responsible. Your behaviour reflects on the school," Tara couldn't help but envision herself in a car with a baseball bat, and swinging at every mailbox. With a smirk, she shook the thoughts from her mind.

"After 7, seniors can meet back here, and continue on their Halloween activities," Miss. Morrissey grinned, "Have fun girls!"

Tara shot her teacher a smile, before looking down at her group of 5.

"Okay! I'm Tara, and I'll be taking you guys around London... You all know each other?"

One girl with dark brown hair, dressed as a pop-star rolled her eyes and nodded.

"I'm Paige," she pointed at girls around the group, introducing them. The one with auburn hair who was dressed up like something out of a Harry Potter book was Willow, the blonde girl wearing an angel costume was Annabelle, the strawberry blonde mermaid was Arianna, and the girl dressed like a Jane Austen wannabe heroine was Cordelia.

Tara shrugged.

"Okay. So. Let's get going..." Tara ushered the group to one of the nearest houses, ringing the doorbell when they had gathered on the porch.

An elderly woman opened the door, and smiled fondly.

"Trick or Treat!"

.1.1.1.1.

"That house looks like it might have something nice," Arianna pointed out, Tara biting her lip.

"Not really..."

"But whoever lives there must be rich... just look! And the cars! Ooh!" Paige was practically drooling, "Look at the cars!" Tara groaned.

"That's the Creighton-Ward manor,"

Willow grinned.

"It even SOUNDS rich! Come on!" The girls grabbed Tara's hands and flowing skirt, pulling her up the drive.

Cordelia rang the doorbell, and they arranged themselves for whoever answered.

The door swung open, and Parker peered out.

"Miss. Tara! We didn' know you were comin' 'home for Christmas!" The girls all turned to face their chaperone, and Tara flushed a light pink.

"Trick or Treat, Parker?" The butler laughed.

"I'll get your mother, Miss. Tara,"

He stepped aside, Tara pushing the girls into the foyer. Parker closed the door behind them, and headed into the living room, Tara holding her head in her hand.

"You're Tara Creighton-Ward! You're the school captain!" Annabelle breathed incredulously, Tara looking away.

"Well yes..."

"Tara darling!" Lady Penelope swept out, enveloping her daughter in a hug, "you should have told me you were coming to our Halloween ball!" Tara groaned.

"I'm a chaperone for the juniors Trick or Treating program..."

Penelope looked puzzled.

"I thought that was a prefect's job..." Tara pursed her lips. She'd completely forgotten to tell her mother.

"Well... about that..."

"...Parker, did you just say Ra-Ra's here?" Tara turned white.

Five boys raced through the doors into the foyer, jumping on Tara.

"Ra-ra! Happy Halloween!" Gordon hooked his arm over Tara's shoulders, and she grimaced, looking over at her group of small, frightened Trick or Treaters.

"Gor-don," Penelope chuckled at her daughter's desperate tone.

"You were saying Tara?"

The girl bit her lip.

"Well... IforgottotellyoubutI'mschoolcaptain,"

"What? Speak slowly and more eloquently, darling,"

Tara took a deep breath.

"I'm school captain..." There was a stunned silence, before Virgil started laughing, Tara giving him a glare. He quickly disguised it as hacking cough.

"You're serious?" Scott asked, eyebrows raised.

"Completely," Again, there were moments of silence until...

"CONGRATS RA-RA!"

.1.1.1.1.

"So after you finish your chaperoning duties, what are you going to do?" John asked, sitting across from Tara in the lounge.

"My friends and I are going to the haunted house down by the museum. It's supposed to be scarier than last year,"

"Sounds like a plan," Virgil looked at his brothers, who agreed. Tara groaned.

"Must you?"

"Come on Ra-ra... you know you love us..." Gordon smirked, "Think of it as a congratulations outing for your captaincy,"

She huffed, and settled back into the lounge.

"Fine. Just one catch. They only let you in if you're in costume..." The boys exchanged sly glances.

"That won't be a problem,"

.1.1.1.1.

"Bye Tara!" Arianna waved at the girl one last time, before the bus drove off with the juniors. Tara waved back, before turning to her friends, a grim expression on her features.

"Guys... There's something I have to tell you..."

.1.1.1.1.

"Five guys are coming? You sure Tara?"

"For the fiftieth time Lara, yes,"

"Why?"

"Because they love me, okay? Drop the questions," Tara was pacing nervously, just knowing Gordon was going to do something stupid on her night off.

.1.1.1.1.

"I am not wearing this," Alan threw the costume down on the sofa.

"Just put it on, Alan. Then you and Tara can match!" The youngest Tracy threw a death glare at John.

"Alan, don't make us force you into it... Just put on the damn costume,"

"You put on the damn costume!"

"We'll tell Tara you were being childish!"

"I am not wearing this!"

.1.1.1.1.

"... I can't believe I'm wearing this..." Alan grumbled, straightening the crimson tights his brothers had forced him in to.

Scott, Gordon and Virgil were walking ahead, laughing at his predicament - Scott with his little fake electric rock-star guitar, Gordon with his surfer Hawaiian shirt, and Virgil dressed as someone from MIB.

John was travelling beside his youngest brother, brandishing his wooden sword at passers by.

The 5 approached the haunted house, Tara being surrounded by her friends. Alan felt his breath catching in his throat.

She really did look like sleeping beauty.

The girl turned around, grinning when she saw him in his crimson tights.

"Hey Tari," She smiled cheesily.

"You look so cute..." she chuckled, Alan giving her a dark look.

"Are you a bard?'

"... a prince..." Tara giggled.

"Well, we match... to say the least..." Alan couldn't help but laugh. Somehow he thought that was his brothers' plan all along. He held out his arm, and Tara took it, turning to her friends.

"Guys, the Tracy boys, Alan, Gordon, Virgil, John and Scott, meet Linda, Jenny, Monique, and Lara," She looked around the group, "Mmkay... let's go,"

.1.1.1.1.

20 minutes later, the 10 emerged, laughing at the gags inside.

"You've been into space and rescued people from death, but you're afraid of plastic vampires?" Tara asked Alan incredulously. He got defensive.

"It's not my fault! I--" Tara held up her hands.

"Al... I don't care. I'm just poking fun at you... Gordon screamed like a girl when Jenny stumbled over her skirt and crashed into him," Alan laughed.

"Gordon's always been a bit of a wuss..." Tara chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder.

Behind the pair, Virgil and Scott exchanged glances, smirking.

"Good job, Agent Tracy..." Scott muttered to his younger brother.

"Nice work, Rocker-boy,"

.1.1.1.1.

"How cute was the pirate boy?" Lara sighed dreamily as she boarded the coach home. Tara stifled her giggles with a yawn.

"John? No way Lara. He's away too much.. his job and all..."

"I loved the secret agent," Jenny grinned, Tara snorting.

"I'll be sure to tell Virgil that. He doesn't need the ego boost though,"

"I don't know what you guys are on, but the rock-star was totally the hottest! You should have let me go as a groupie!" Monique grinned as Tara coughed, holding back her laughter.

"Oh Mother of Mercy no.."

"Tars darling..."

"No, Neekie. I refuse to give you his number,"

"Killjoy..."

"I heard that,"

.1.1.1.1.

Once Tara got back to Thorntree that night, she quickly changed into her nightgown, and slipped into bed, falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Meanwhile, at the Tracy residence, Once Alan had gotten home and into he drifted slowly into the land of Nod...

... and the land of the sleeping damsel in distress who needed her handsome prince rescuer...

... The sleeping damsel named Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward.

* * *

**A/N** _Happy All Hallows Eve my darling reviewers! I promised a Halloween chapter, and this one got planned last year on Halloween... which means Kryptonite has been going for a year or so. Wow. On the up side, Tara's father will be making an appearance in 8 or so chapters... BUT IT IS NOT THE END OF THE STORY. I've written the last chapters, and Tara is around 20 by the story's end. She's currently 17 so we have little while to go yet._

_At any rate, I hope you all enjoyed this long planned chapter, and I hope you all have a great Halloween!_

_I'll write review replies next chapter, but just a quick thanks to all who did review! I love you all and imaginary chocolate truffles to all who reviewed!_

_And now I must go and kill someone because of all the merdux exams I had today._

_The Faerie_

_P.S. I hate Latin._

_P.P.S. I hate puppets._

_P.P.P.S. Camels taste like Lamb._


	21. Carwash

_**A/N** Forgive me, reviewers, for I have sucked. It's been over a month since my last confe-- Update. But so much has happened between last update and now…_

_I'll tell you all at the end of the chapter._

_Enjoy for now._

_P.S. **SPOILER AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER!**_

* * *

**Chapter 21: **Carwash

* * *

"I don't give a flying fuck whether you want a monument of Thicket in the year 12 quadrangle as our gift, Mary-Sue; I'm the school captain and I'll make the final decision!"

"You go girl!"

"S-nap Tara!"

"Fuck off," Tara sank into her chair, and rubbed her temples. Over the other side of the conference table, Mary-Sue glowered at her outranking prefect.

"And so we're back to square one. What does the school need?" Tara looked around at the blank faces and sighed, "Okay. Let me reiterate. What does the school need that we can afford? Any ideas?"

"We can afford a st--"

"Don't make me kick your ass, because I will do it, Mary-Sue,"

"Tara, just how much do we have in the gift fund anyway?"

Tara turned to Allie, the prefect in-charge of the treasury, and raised her eyebrows expectantly. Allie's eyes darted over a few pages and she bit her lip.

"Considering we go to a rich school, we have bloody nothing in this fund,"

"How much, Nguyen?"

"£5000,"

Tara sighed again.

"Then we need to raise some money. Maybe that will broaden our horizons as to gifts,"

The majority of the prefect body nodded in agreement and with that Tara stood.

"Okay guys. I'll see you all next week with fundraising ideas," She shoved her books into her satchel, and Tara swung it over her shoulder, hastily making her exit from the room.

Mary-Sue scowled at the captain as she left.

.1.1.1.1.

"How about a carwash?"

"Neek... No,"

"She might be on to something there Tars," Lara pointed her butterknife at Tara the next morning at breakfast. After informing her friends of her situation last night, they'd offered their assistance, and Tara was bombarded with suggestions since she'd sat down that morning.

So far, the most profitable idea had come from Lara, who suggested prostitution.

Linda fell off her seat laughing.

"Think of it like this Tars - most of the prefect body is in pretty good shape. If you guys hold a carwash, you can probably get more money than we need,"

"Oh great. Then what?"

"Embezzlement, My dear. Take what's rightfully yours!"

Tara turned away from Jenny.

"Is it just me, or do you guys think Jen forgot her pills this morning too...?"

.1.1.1.1.

"... I cannot believe they went for the idea," Tara paced around the Captain's dormitory, her phone pressed to her ear. On the other line, a deep male chuckle resounded.

"From what I hear most of the prefects would go for that sort of thing, Ra-ra,"

"Uuuh,"

"Now, now Tara Belle. Wailing isn't becoming of a lady,"

"...My god Alan. If I wanted to be lectured on Lady-like behaviour I would have called my mother or YOUR FATHER,"

Alan laughed, fuelling Tara further.

"I mean, I would expect something like that from THEM, but not from YOU, Alan! God!"

"Okay, okay. I get the point. Look Tars, I guess you just need to bite this in the butt and let it go. Go to the carwash. Have fun. You never know. You might just like it,"

"..."

"Don't give me that look, Tars,"

"... How did you know?"

Alan chuckled.

"I can just see you doing it now, too,"

"Great. Thanks. Just what I wanted to know. I'm predictable!"

"You? No. Never,"

"Shut up,"

.1.1.1.1.

3 weeks later, the sun rose high, the prefects rose early, and the school captain rose to her friends singing their rendition of "Carwash" by Christina Aguilera and Missy Elliot.

Well... replace "rose" with "swore and threw her shoe at them"...

And replace "shoe" with "maths textbook".

.1.1.1.1.

"Morning Virg... Scott..."

"Morning Squirt. Got anything planned for this beautiful day?"

"... Why...?" Alan sat down across from his brothers at the breakfast table, eyebrow raised. Scott chuckled.

"Well... it just seems like the perfect day for a carwash, don't you think?" Alan snorted, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

"Was that a pathetic attempt to try and get me to wash Thunderbird 1, Scott?"

"..."

"I knew it,"

"We could always get someone else to do it..."

"Like who, Virgil?"

"Tara's prefects are running a carwash for their seniors gift... I'm sure she'd just love to wax and polish Thunderbird 2, Virgil..." twin evil smirks crept across the faces of the two elder brothers seated at the table. And Alan couldn't help it. A grin played around his own lips at the thought of Tara's reaction to the Thunderbirds crashing her carwash.

.1.1.1.1.

"... Turn it up Allie!" One of the prefects called, giggling, whilst Allie Nguyen turned up the stereo.

_... Are you ready boots?_

Tara rolled her eyes, soaping up her sponge, and leaning over the red sports car, washing off the dirt. Behind her, the girl heard someone catwhistle. Tara couldn't help but flush a little.

"Hey Mary-Sue! Pass us the wax!" Mary-Sue threw the canister to Tara, who caught it with ease. The blonde then pulled her damp cloth from the string at the side of her hot pink bikini. In the distance, she could hear a few of the other prefects having a water-fight. Normally, she'd join in, but Tara just didn't feel like it today.

"That'll be 20 quid," The guy winked, handing the cash over. Tara accepted it, and walked over to the bucket they'd designated for cash, swaying her hips as she went.

Tara was no fool. She knew that so many of these customers were leering old men who wanted a show from half naked girls. So why not?

"Good Job Tars!" Allie looked into the bucket, "Looks like we can get the new instruments for the music wing after all!"

"Great." Tara looked over her shoulder, "Looks like we've got another customer,"

She sighed.

In the distance, Tara heard a familiar rumbling, and she groaned. No. Not them. _Anything_ but the--

"OH MY GOD! IT'S THE THUNDERBIRDS!"

.1.1.1.1.

"THEY DID WHAT!"

"They went to get the Thunderbirds washed, Mr. Tracy," Jeff clutched the arm rests of his seat tightly, his knuckles turning white.

"Call Scott. I want them back here right _now_,"

"Yes Mr. Tracy," Tin-Tin bowed her head in submission

Jeff just groaned.

.1.1.1.1.

"No way in all hell am I washing Thunderbird 2, _International Rescue_," Tara hissed, gritting her teeth in anger and frustration.

"Come on Miss. Creighton-Ward. It says "Carwash for all kinds","

"_Car_wash. CARwash. That is not a car,"

"It's close enough, Ra-ra,"

"Don't."

"We'll pay you, Ra-ra. It's not a charity job,"

"I won't be able to wash any other cars if we wash, wax and polish T2 or T1,"

"It'll be worth it, Ra-ra! Come on!"

After a few more moments of arguing, Tara caved in.

"Okay. Fine. But you two owe me big time,"

"Thanks Ra-ra. You're the best," Tara flipped Virgil off, and then turned to the prefects ogling the T'birds.

"Okay girls! Let's get to work!"

.1.1.1.1.

By the end of the day, Tara was cramped, sore and cold. Her prefects in the same condition, and Virgil and Scott were grounded, even though they told Jeff they were careful no-one came inside the Thunderbird, nor did they allow anyone but Tara to see their faces.

Jeff didn't care.

Alan found it funny.

.1.1.1.1.

"Do we have enough, Allie?" the treasurer beamed.

"Exactly enough. Good job girls! We've done it!"

Tara sighed and collapsed in her seat as the other prefects cheered, and patted her on the back.

"Great. Now we just need to focus on the finals... Anyone else screwed for Radcliffe's Latin final?" Several prefects raised their hands. Tara chuckled.

"Glad to know I'm not the only one,"

"I'm never stuffed for exams. I--"

"I'm not kidding this time, Mary-Sue. You say one more word, and I swear I will kick your ass so hard you won't be able to use the bathroom for weeks,"

Mary-Sue fell silent.

"Snap Tars!"

The captain smiled weakly.

"I'm going to study now. Meeting adjourned,"

.1.1.1.1.

_Puella Puellam Puellae..._

"Miss. Creighton-Ward? The library's closing now... You'd better get back to your room... Curfew is in 5 minutes," Tara glanced up from her book to the clock. She smiled sheepishly.

"Thanks, Madame De La Cour,"

Tara packed up her books, and headed back to her dormitory, yawning most of the way.

For the past few nights, she'd been studying every chance she got.

Tara couldn't afford to fail.

... Virgil would never let her live it down...

... and Gordon would just be a pain in the ass...

_... As per usual,_ she supposed drowsily.

* * *

_**A/N** Okay! Firstly: Excursions. A hell of a lot of them. Latin, History, English, Music etc... all really... really... really boring._

_Secondly: Music Camp. Fantasmic. It was totally the best. We had a great time in our own cabins, and keeping my insomniac percussion tutor occupied... And My impressions were the best. I say that with absoloutely no ego. at all... :shifty eyes:_

_Thirdly: Drama Exam... DIE EXAMINER DIE!_

_Fourthly: School work... DIE! DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!_

_Fifthly: School Reports: Three perfect ones. All A pluses and way above average. :dances:_

_And_

_Sixthly: Speech Day. I got a prize. "General Proficiency". Means I do well in all my classes... wOot:dances more:_

_So yes. I am so, so, so totally sorry._

_And I just wanted to thank all of my reviewers for their support... I've almost broken 100 reviews. Yay. :)_

_Apparently I can't thank you guys in chapters anymore...so I just wanted to say: Thanks you guys. You rock. Keep 'em coming, and I'll update during the summer…_

'_cept the week I'm away... YAY BEACH HOLIDAY! (It's not till January. Chill.)_

_And in case I don't update between now and then: I hope you all have a great Christmas and a fantastic New Year guys!_

_I have to spend Christmas with the rellos. Craptacular… :sigh: (My brother and I don't exactly get on with my cousin and aunt on my Dad's side.)_

_So I hope yours is better than mine._

_And here's a Christmas present for all you out there who love Tara and want to meet her father..._

_**Excerpt:**_

"Here..." Tara handed him a glass of water, and he lifted it to his lips, taking a sip. He was still a little shaky, and managed to spill half the glass down his torso, the droplets glistening on his muscles in the little light that came streaming through the window.

Tara picked up a towel, and dabbed it on Alan's chest, drying the droplets. Her fingers brushed against his skin a few times, sending shivers down his spine.

Alan suddenly became aware of his lack of clothing.

"Uhh... Whe... Tara... Where exactly are my clothes?" She cracked a grin, rolling her eyes innocently to the ceiling.

"Around..."

_Bwaha. Has nothing to do with her father. But it's from the Third last chapter of Kryptonite. I've written it. It's not for a while. But I like the Tara/Alan action in it._

_He-he._

_Enjoy, and have a Fantasmic Christmas!_

_:heart:The Flame Faerie_


	22. She's a Rebel

_**A/N**_ _You love me...? Please don't kill me...? And I don't own Billie Joe Armstrong... His mistress, "Kill", has loaned him to me, however, for the purpose of this story. Also, the song, "Father Ted", "Family Guy", "Futurama", "The Simpsons", "Blackadder" and "Green Day" (much to my chagrin) aren't mine._

* * *

**Chapter 22:** She's a Rebel

* * *

"How's studying going?" Tara tucked a blonde hair behind her ear, and didn't look up from the textbook.

"Feck off," Lara exchanged a glance with Linda.

"She's more exhausted than we thought. She's quoting _Father Ted_ now,"

"Indeed. We've already passed through _Family Guy_, _Futurama_, and _The Simpsons_. Next up is _Blackadder_, and finally _Green Day_,"

"Oh that's going to go down well in prefect meetings. I can just picture it now. Mary-Sue stands, looking around the room: We need to enforce discipline in the senior study. Other seniors need to start cleaning the kitchen after using it,"

"Yeah. That sounds like her. And then our darling school captain looks up from her Latin Textbook, and says intelligently: I think dogs are going to take over the world,"

"Guys, I'm not kidding. If I don't revise on the 5th declension, Radcliffe will tell Thicket I'm failing, and then she'll take my captaincy away from me. I don't want to lose it, guys,"

Lara nodded in sympathy.

"We know. You still haven't run the school into the ground,"

"Shove off," Monique poked her head into the common room.

"What's this? We're annoying Tara? YOU CONFORMIST YOU!" Monique pointed at Tara's textbook, horrified.

"Have Billie Joe and I taught you NOTHING!"

"What?"

"Tara, you should be outside in lime green tights, and pink mini-skirts, telling people: I got 1900 votes in the school elections. I can wear whatever the hell I want!"

Tara couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Okay guys, I swear, I'll blow something up after I pass this Latin final,"

"Good. Cuz then you'll pass your Chem final too,"

"Neek..."

"Pyromania is fun,"

"Neek..." Tara's voice had a bit more of an edge to it as she tried to focus on her textbook.

"It's like: Burny! Burny Burn! BURN!"

"Monique. Please..." Tara's knuckles were growing whiter as she gripped her book harder.

"Pretty flames dancing around. Wax and Wane. Wax and Wane..."

"Monique, I warning you now,"

"Wax and Wane. WAX and wane. Wax and WANE!" A resounding thud silenced the room as a textbook narrowly missed Monique's head.

Lara leaned over to Linda.

"She's dangerous when she's pissed,"

"But she's still turned into a saint. A little goodie two shoes. I'm almost ashamed of her,"

"Indeed. We need her to be the rebel we made her in 6th grade,"

"Indeed we do,"

.1.1.1.1.

The day after the Latin final, Tara was searching the hallways for her friends, peering around corners with as much stealth as Gordon taught her when she was 6.

She finally found them by the Statue of armour on the 6th floor.

Skulking in the shadows, Tara eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Right. So it's settled. Tonight, at Midnight, we'll sneak out of our dorms, and t-p the old oak tree outside Thicket's quarters... Neek, you put cling wrap under the toilet seats around 1, and grease the door handles to Thicket's room and office. Lara, glue the textbooks together in the history rooms, and Linda, you put slow drying glue on Thicket's chair at exactly 2 a.m. That way it'll be nearly solid at breakfast tomorrow morning," Jenny looked around the group with a smirk, "And remember. No-one tell Tara. If she wants to be a book worm, she can miss out on the fun,"

Over in her hiding spot, Tara grinned maliciously. If that's the way they wanted to play it...

Tara slipped into an empty classroom, and closed the door. Lifting her watch, a smile curled at her lips.

"Gordo? You there carrot top?"

"Call me that one more time, Ra-ra, and I'll kill you,"

"Feeling's mutual. Now. Gordo, I need your help,"

Gordon smirked.

"Of course Ra-ra, anything for you..."

.1.1.1.1.

Tara's alarm woke her at 10:30 p.m., and she arose quietly, donning her black turtleneck, and black, tight pants, with her rubber soled boots. She pulled on the traditional black beanie over her loose blonde hair, and tucked her flashlight into her belt.

Checking her "Sus factor" in the mirror, she grinned slyly, pulling the beanie down to a balaclava, covering everything but her eyes. In the light, and surrounded by black, Tara couldn't help but think her nightmarish she looked.

Pocketing her supplies, Tara slipped silently from the captain's dorm.

She's a rebel indeed.

A rebel, a saint and dangerous all rolled into one.

.1.1.1.1.

"Morning guys!" Tara was unusually cheerful, Jenny noticed, grumbling. Their entire plan for the night was a waste of time, and she had a feeling that it was all part of a joke at their expense.

"Why are you all so gloomy?"

"No reason," Lara snapped, unusually quickly. Tara raised an eyebrow.

"Really... Say Linda, that looks like it hurt..." The girls looked closer at Linda, who looked down at her palm.

"This? Oh No. It's just a superglue burn..."

"Oh?" Tara was desperately fighting the smirk from her face.

"My cutlery is stuck to the table," From the head of the room, Thicket's cry carried, Jenny's gaze snapping to Linda, who shook her head.

"And I'm stuck to my seat... MISS. CREIGHTON WARD! MY OFFICE! NOW!" Tara rose, without a complaint, and shot her friends a sly smile.

"Next time you want to exclude the school captain from something, remember: I learnt from the best... And Lara, Talc and moisturiser will soothe that itching you-know-where," Jenny looked over at Lara, who looked ready to kill.

"You did that?"

"Oh calm down. It was just itching powder," Tara winked slyly, and gracefully swept from the room.

"So you didn't accidentally glue your hand to Thicket's chair, Linda!" Jenny muttered

"And the doors to the History rooms were greased!" Lara hissed

"And there was pepper in the cling wrap!" Monique moaned

"And there wasn't a Junkie under the oak!"

Outside the hall, Tara smirked, and raised her watch.

"Good work, Gordo. Thanks for the help,"

"Anytime, Ra-ra. You will soon become the master, my young apprentice. And may the force be with you,"

"Oh grow up, Gordo," but Tara couldn't help but grin, even as she headed into the Headmistress' office.

.1.1.1.1.

A few weeks passed after "The incident", as her friends had affectionately called it, and Tara was back into "saint" mode.

"_And so using the Pythagorean theorem_..."

"She's muttering in tongues, Lara. Kill her,"

"Sod off,"

"AND WE'VE REACHED BLACKADDER!"

"So..."

"Fuck off,"

Lara smirked.

"And now we've hit Green Day. Thankyou Ladies and Gentlemen for your patience as we've discovered the stages of endearment from our darling scho--"

"Feck off, Lara. I'm busy,"

"_Father Ted_?" Linda said, incredulous, "I thought we'd already dealt with that!"

Tara shot her a dirty look, before continuing to study her maths notes.

_**Meanwhile, in another part of the world...**_

Alan Tracy paced his room, bored out of his brain.

On one hand, it was good there had been no rescues lately.

On the other hand, he really wanted something to blow up.

He was even tempted to call Tara to tell her to set something on fire, which he was sure she'd do.

... _very_ sure she'd do.

"Come on guys, let's go do something," Lara stood and stretched.

"Yeah," Monique slid her shoes back on, "There's only so long you can stare at Tara studying before you start de-robing her with your eyes," Tara gave Monique a disgruntled glare.

"Get a hobby. And fast," The girls smirked, and left the Captain's dorms, leaving Tara in the silence she needed to study...

... that was, until her watch began to beep.

"_... If there aren't any rescues, then why not do something useful around the island? Like wash your own Thunderbirds..._"

"Nice to talk to you too, Tari,"

"I'm not speaking to you. You told Scott and Virgil that we were holding a Carwash. I had to wash and wax Thunderbirds one and two because of it,"

"Tara, that was weeks ago. You can't still be mad,"

"Yes. Yes I am. Now unless you understand Advanced Trigonometry, I'm busy studying,"

"... I'll give you chocolate next time you come round to the island..." Alan heard a textbook snap shut, and when he looked at the watch-face, he was greeted with the sight of Tara Amelia Belle Creighton-Ward.

"Hello Alan. Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" He laughed.

"Oh, I'm not fooled by that innocent smile. I know you're only using me for Gordon's chocolate supplies," Tara smirked.

"Perhaps yes. So there have really been no rescu--" In the distance, Tara heard a beeping, and Alan was torn between a groan, and a look of triumph.

"There's a rescue..."

"You noticed too," She gave him a half smile.

"Go save someone. I'll just be here studying,"

"Have fun with that, Tari,"

"Oh get stuffed," He laughed.

"See you,"

"Be careful," the connection died, and Alan raced off to be briefed.

Tara sank into her arm chair, and sighed.

* * *

_**A/N** Hiya, I love you all, and don't kill me...?_

_I've been uber busy - vacations, school work (You'd think that MAYBE I'd get a break, but no. Die Latin Die.) and Loving (in that platonic way) friends and their crazy outings._

_... where you get hit on by guys fishing…_

_And bad pickup lines._

_8 more chapter's until Tara's father... and the next one is going to be long..._

_**Next chapter:**_

Tara looked over at Monique, Lara, Jenny and Linda. They nodded in silent agreement, before Tara flicked the switch.

Sprinting from the office, the girls split up, and headed back down to the Headmistress' lawn.

Each sprinted towards the nearest staircase, and rounded the corner just as there was a loud popping sound.

Out on the Headmistress' lawn, Alan looked up, swearing he heard something explode.

Then that heavenly smell reached his nostrils.

Tara looked around the lawns, and smirked.


	23. The Graduation

_**Added Post-announcement A/N** Don't take this as any "Yes, the hiatus is over" chapter. It was the last one I wrote before... it happened. The event is written at the top of my bio, for those who are curious._

_But, considering in two chapters time, I have to write in the character based on her - because she plays a pivotal roll in the story and she's already been written into too many chapters for me to re-create, the "bridging the gaps" is just going to hurt a whole lot, guys._

_Thanks for understanding,_

**_The Teary, Broken, Fallen Flame Faerie_**

* * *

**Chapter 23:** The Graduation

* * *

_Dear Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward,_

_You are cordially invited to the Graduation Ceremony of the class of 2064 at Thorntree Academy for Young Ladies._

_**When:** June 16th_

_**Where:** Thorntree Academy, Liverpool_

_**Time:** The ceremony begins at 9:30 a.m. Celebrations continue all day._

_**R.S.V.P.** May 21st_

_Enclosed are your daughters examination results and reporting card._

_We hope to see you at the ceremony_

_Headmistress Emmaline Thicket_

Penelope took a deep breath and withdrew Tara's report card.

What she saw made her drop the sheet of cardboard in shock.

_Latin ------------------------ A  
__English Extension---------- A  
__Advanced Mathematics---- A  
__Ancient History ------------ A  
__Music -----------------------A  
__Chemistry ----------------- A  
__Physics -------------------- A_

"She passed..." Parker set down a tea tray next to his mistress, and grinned widely.

"I 'old ye Miss Tara'd come through, M'lady," Penelope sipped her piping hot tea, nodding slightly.

"That she did, Parker... That she did..."

.1.1.1.1.

Tara looked at her results and yelped in glee, skipping around the Captain's dorm.

"I PASSED!" She leapt onto Lara, who groaned at the weight of the blonde girl.

"I love you too, Tars... get off now..." The girl grinned widely.

"I'VE PASSED MY FINALS!"

"I'm sure the whole school knows that now, Tars... why don't you climb the clock tower and shout it to the rest that don't know?" Jenny commented, rubbing her sore hip where Tara had jumped on her.

Tara's blue eyes lit up at the thought.

"Okay!" The girls groaned as their hyperactive school captain bounded from the room.

"Good going Jen," Linda commented bitingly. The brunette just flipped her off.

.1.1.1.1.

"It would mean a lot to Tara if you and the boys came, Jeff,"

"I don't know Penny... I'd love to go to Tara's graduation... don't get me wrong... but what if we have a rescue? Or what if the boys just embarrass Tara?"

"Jeff, I'm sure Gordon has raised Tara's embarrassment tolerance. She'll be fine. Please come Jeff. You're like family to us both..."

Eventually, Jeff Tracy sighed in defeat.

"Alright, Penny. I'll inform the boys," From the other end, Jeff could practically hear Penelope smile. She _liked_ getting her own way.

.1.1.1.1.

"Okay guys," Tara sat down with her friends, "We need to think of one final prank to pull on this school. The Raiders need to leave with a bang,"

As soon as Tara saw the smirk forming over Jenny's features, she knew the girl had a plan.

"Spill Jen,"

"It's really rather simple..."

.1.1.1.1.

The day of Graduation crept up on the seniors at Thorntree Academy relatively quickly, and, after weeks of planning, Tara and co (affectionately named the "Raiders" by Miss. Morrissey) had set up their final prank.

"We'll meet back up here after the ceremony," the school captain closed the door, her Mary-janes clicking on the marbled floors by the staff offices.

"Good luck for the ceremony, Tars," Lara flashed her friend a smile, "You look every bit the innocent school captain nerd," Tara rolled her eyes.

"My mother's going to be there today. Me looking anything less than perfect? Big bad," she grimaced, looking down at the just-above-knee-length kilt, white blouse, navy jumper, red and white striped tie, and straightening her deep blue blazer with the school captain's emblem and badge residing on it.

The other girls just laughed. Tara flipped them off, and she glanced to the clock in the staff room. She had fifteen minutes before the ceremony.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes darted to the looking glass nearby, and she checked her appearance one last time. Blonde hair set in ringlets, tied behind her in a high ponytail. Wisps of gold falling over her stunning eyes, lined with kohl. Faint traces of tan eyeshadow above darkened, shaped lashes. Red gloss brushed over pouting lips. She closed her eyes tightly, before turning back to her friends.

"I've got to get going. I'll see you all after the ceremony. Five minutes after should suffice..." Jenny waved her off.

"Go Tara. Good Luck," she flashed them a smile, before heading off.

Before finding the deputy principal, however, Tara's manicured hand slipped into her blazer pocket, and she withdrew a small pillbox, her fingers closing over the case. She sighed, slipping it back inside, and finding her way to the back of the hall.

.1.1.1.1.

"Welcome to the Thorntree Academy for Young Ladies Graduation Ceremony for 2064. Please stand for the singing of the national anthem, and the entering of the official party," Alan glanced over at his brothers, a few of whom sniggered at the formality of the situation. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Seeing her again... Since that night, he had dreamt about her... thought about her during his waking hours... Seeing her again... Just being within meters of the blonde bombshell was intoxicating him.

The conductor raised her baton, and the orchestra struck the first few notes of the anthem. The double doors swung open at the back of the hall, and the headmistress entered first, dressed ornately in her academic black robes. They swirled around her, and Alan admitted, nervously, that she held a regal air. Behind her, followed the deputy principals, and then, the captains.

Alan's breath hitched in his chest as he saw her step slowly through the mahogany doors. Nearby, he heard Lady Penelope gasp in marvel. Parker was beaming with pride, and out of the corner of his eye, Alan noticed his own father grin proudly.

"Ra-ra cleans up well," Virgil muttered to the youngest Tracy, and Alan bit back a laugh.

Her steps were slow as she headed down the aisle. Almost as soon as he glimpsed her face, Alan could tell Tara was holding back a smirk.

Next to her, stood another tall, blonde stunner. Alan noted that his brothers saw this fact appreciatively. She was beaming, her perfect grin and perfect blonde hair giving her the look of a Barbie doll.

The two uniformed girls were nearly at the front of the hall now, and they separated, heading to two separate staircases to the stage. Taking one stair at a time, Tara and the other girl climbed to the stage, before seating themselves in their designated chairs - side by side.

"Please be seated. Welcome again to the graduation ceremony for the class of 2064. Please welcome outgoing school captain, Tara Creighton-Ward," Tara stepped up to the microphone, and took a deep breath, looking out over the crowds.

"If someone had asked me, at this time, two years ago, what I thought of Thorntree Academy, I probably would have told you I couldn't wait to get out of here. I would have told you all that nothing ever happened at this "finishing school", and that I had far too many detentions for my own good," she paused, allowing the laughter to die down, "If you posed that question to me now... only one thing would be the same. For the past 7 years, Thorntree has been my home, and for hundreds of years before then, it was the home to countless numbers of students. Students who have been both good and bad, intelligent and delinquent in nature, and girls who have grown in every way. Thorntree has been a family to me for the past 7 years. The school functions as a solid unit. Even when tragedy strikes, like it did last year at Oak Bluff, our summer school, we can continue to function as one,"

Tara continued to speak for a further 5 minutes, her speech moving and empowering. Penelope felt pride swell in her chest. Her daughter. Her delinquent child. She felt the smile play around her lips.

"... and as for what wouldn't have changed? I still have too many detentions," Tara flashed a warm smile, and bowed out, re-taking her seat.

Her eyes scanned the crowd and found Alan's. An amused smile adorned his features. She grinned.

.1.1.1.1.

The Ceremony droned on, and Tara found herself staring at the ceiling of the stage, counting the tiles above her head.

Mary-Sue was seated, legs crossed, and a smile on her features that made the school captain want to pinch her to see if she was, indeed, made of plastic.

"And now, we ask Mrs. Peterson to the stage to present the Senior awards," An elderly lady hobbled up the stairs, grey hair tied in a stiff bun, and lips set in a thin line. Her eyes were beady and sharp as she looked over the hall, leaning against the podium.

Tara couldn't help but recall the time Mrs. Peterson had made a middle schooler cry when she was presented with an award. Poor kid was traumatised.

"... Award for excellence in English... Mary-Sue Pleasant..." Tara was vaguely aware of the sanctimonious grin given to her by Mary-Sue, but she really couldn't give a flying f--

"Award for excellence in Music... Monique Silver,"

--uck. Tara tried not to laugh as Monique walked up the steps to accept her award. She flashed her friend a warm smile, and applauded the girl. Monique winked at Tara, accepted her award, and then headed back down to the seniors seating area.

Peterson continued on with the awards, Tara paying less and less attention as time passed.

Eventually, they reached the final prize…

"Award for overall academic excellence, and Dux of the Senior Year... Tara Creighton-Ward,"

_What?_

Tara stood, scarcely believing it. Was her year really that stupid that she topped them with straight A's...

…

…

… Yes.

The more she thought about it... yes. It was definitely plausible.

Her hand was taken in a firm grip by Peterson, and Tara tried not to stare at the wrinkles that enveloped the woman's face.

She could have been Methuselah's mother, Peterson looked so... old.

From the corner of her eye, the blonde girl could see her mother holding in tears of surprise and pride. Jeff looked pleasantly amused, and she wouldn't get onto the boys. Their faces were a mixture of shock and amusement (spare Virgil and Scott. They seemed proud)

She accepted the prize, and walked back to her seat, amongst cat calls from her friends. She laughed and shook her head, lowering herself to her seat, and looking down at the certificate and books in her hands.

_Far. Fucking. Out_.

Mary-Sue was seething.

Oh yes, Tara was enjoying this "inner nerd". Nothing else could bring a rise from Mary-Sue quite like this.

The rest of the ceremony passed uneventfully from there.

.1.1.1.1.

From the stage, Tara wormed her way down the back exit to the East Wing of the school, racing through the stone corridors, past the junior dormitories in the Eastern Wing of the school, until she reached the open air hallway joining the wings of the school.

As soon as she turned the corner into the West wing, she caught sight of her group, attempting to loiter inconspicuously...

... They were failing.

When they caught sight of her, however, they immediately gathered to the captain. She had a black bag slung over her shoulder, and it contained both the prank and her prize.

Tara worked quickly, signalling Jenny to check the coast was clear, and sent Linda to stand sentry.

Then, she removed large packets of small, orange-ish, ball-esque things, and tossed one to each member of the group.

She nudged her head to the office, and they headed in.

Moments later, they re-emerged, and Tara looked over at Monique, Lara, and Jenny. They nodded in silent agreement, before Tara flicked the switch.

Sprinting from the office, the girls split up, and headed back down to the Headmistress' lawn.

Each sprinted towards the nearest staircase, and rounded the corner just as there was a loud popping sound.

Out on the Headmistress' lawn, Alan looked up, swearing he heard something explode.

Then that heavenly smell reached his nostrils.

Tara looked around the lawns and smirked.

She headed over to Alan, and grinned, taking the flute of champagne from his hand.

"This for me?" he rolled his eyes, and punched her arm lightly.

Moments later, Tara was dragged off the lawns.

.1.1.1.1.

"POPCORN!" Tara leaned back on her chair in the Staff room. Nearby, Miss. Morrissey was trying her hardest not to laugh.

"Yes Headmistress, Popcorn. A little bland for my tastes bu--"

"YOU and your little gang of DELINQUENTS filled my office with POPCORN!"

"You have to admit, Headmistress," Miss. Morrissey came to Tara's defence, "It was an ingenious idea. Popcorn machines in the airvents, and gratings left open. Kind of lets the class of '64 leave with a bang," Tara snorted at the music teachers terminology.

Thicket turned back to Tara, seething.

"DETENTION, Miss. Creighton-Ward!" It was then Tara stood.

"No... I don't think so..." she flashed the headmistress a dazzling smile, "Note the "Class of 2064" thing? Note yesterday was the last official school day? Note how you no-longer have any form of disciplinary power over me? Thanks, Thicket. You've been a pain," And the blonde school captain from the senior class left the staff room without another word spoken.

.1.1.1.1.

Shortly after Tara had been taken to the "principal's office", Alan found another blonde infront of him, only this one was flirting shamelessly.

"So... Adam right?"

"Alan," he was still holding the near empty flute of champagne Tara had stolen, and then left with him when she was summoned.

"Are you Tara's boyfriend or something?" Nearby, Alan heard Virgil trying not to laugh. He rolled his eyes.

"Friend, yes,"

"Oh..." She batted her eyelashes at him, biting the corner of her bottom lip in what would have been an adorable fashion.

Alan, however, being the typical man, didn't appear to pick up on her obvious flirting, and just shot her a weak smile.

Soon enough, Tara descended the stairs from the lower colonnade hallway, and over the green, where her friends grabbed her and began to speak in low whispers. Tara shook her head, laughing at their quiet suggestions, and patting one or two on the back.

It was then she looked up and over, and caught Alan's gaze.

_Help Me._

His request was simple enough, but she laughed, shaking her head.

_You look like you're having so much fun_!

He shot her a look, and Tara turned back to Jenny.

.1.1.1.1.

When Tara was finally taken to her family (immediate and extended), each of them offered their congratulations, Tin-tin giving the blonde girl a warm hug and beaming grin, and several of the boys hugging their surrogate sister.

It was when Alan draped his arm over her shoulder, Tara looked up, eyes gleaming.

"Hey Tari," she grinned, and leaned into his shoulder.

"Hey Alan,"

"Smile you two!" Penelope called, and both turned to the sound of the Lady's voice, smiles playing over lips as the flash went off. Parker lowered the camera and smiled.

"Loverly shot, M'lady," Tara broke off from Alan, and was immediately taken to her mother.

"Oh Tara darling, we're so proud of you," Penelope enveloped her daughter in a hug, and she smiled lightly into her mother's shoulder.

"Thanks, Mum,"

"Yeah, Ra-ra. It's hard to believe the little girl who used to ask for Brains' help on the kinder-crossword grew up to top her senior year," Tara glared at Gordon.

"Maybe I was the smart one. Besides, and least I could finish the kinder-crossword at age 4... who was it that couldn't... still... at age 15?" Tin-tin sniggered, covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt to hide her amusement.

"Come off it, Ra-ra," She smirked.

"You still haven't got 3 across, have you?" Gordon frowned.

"Bitch,"

"What was that?" Jeff asked, coming up behind his second youngest son. Gordon's eyes widened.

"Nothing Dad,"

"Thought so..." Jeff looked up at the smirking teen.

"Come on guys. The cars are ready,"

"Thanks for coming guys... I really appreciated it..." Tara hugged each of the Tracy brothers in turn, gave Tin-tin an extended, sisterly squeeze, and mussed Gordon's hair one last time, before walking over to the Creighton-Ward pink Rolls, and slipping inside.

"Home, Parker," Penelope slid in after her daughter, and Parker closed the car door gently.

"Yes M'lady,"

Moments into the journey, Tara took a deep breath.

"Thanks for coming today, Mum...Parker... It was nice having the whole extended family here," Penelope laughed.

"We were only too happy to come, Tara. It's not every day you get to see your daughter graduate as school captain," The girl laughed, and settled back in her seat.

It all seemed so surreal.

She'd finished school. _Finished._

She was out in the real world.

Tara had to admit, she hadn't felt like she was floating since that ni--

_No. _

Tara closed her eyes. She'd promised herself she wouldn't think about that one night.

God, she was glad Alan hadn't mentioned it.

Because if he'd confronted her, that one night would have changed everything.

And although she didn't know it yet - it had.

Only, it would take her 2 more years for the 18 year old to find that part out.

Two more long years.

And who knew what they would hold.

* * *

_**Original A/N** ME! HAH! THAT'S WHO! … :ahem:_

_At any rate, I hope you're all having a great Easter/Spring/Autumn Break depending on where you are, and I hope you all have a nice, relaxing time._

_As for me, I celebrated my birthday on Wed, April 5th, so I'm now another year older. Fun, fun for me._

_So, I'll attempt to get Chapter 24 up a.s.a.p., provided I don't get too distracted by "Bullet in a Bible" (A gift from my wonderful Brother), or "Absolution - the Muse Tour" (A gift from my fantasmic friends)_

_A chapter count as now been done (a real, proper "plot organising" one), and SIX chapters until Tara's father makes his appearance._

_Until then, here's a spoiler for 24:_

_Alan, Gordon, Locked room, yelling, Honey, Itching powder, and the first of the "Tara-less" chapters._

_Confused?_

_I am too... and I'm writing the bloody thing..._

_Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers (apparently we're not allowed to thank you by name in chapters anymore... which blows, because I love you guys), and keep them coming._

_I've nearly broken 110. I'm ecstatic you all love Kryptonite. I didn't realise something I came up with at Midnight after seeing the movie could be so popular:)_

_**The Faerie**_


	24. Behind Locked Doors

_**A/N:** If I have to conjugate ONE MORE SET OF LATIN NOUNS, SOMEONE IS GOING TO GET NAPALMED!_

* * *

**Chapter 24: **Behind Locked Doors

* * *

A few weeks had passed since Tara's graduation, and Tin-tin was sitting on Thunderbird one, checking the systems of Scott's pride and joy. She was humming lightly, listening to the radio as it played "classic rock". Currently, her fingers were tapping to the rhythm of "Helter Skelter" by the Beatles. 

Behind her, she heard footsteps up the stairs, and felt a smile play around her lips. She pretended to ignore them, and continued on with her work.

Soon enough, warm arms wrapped around her waist, and she looked up from her clipboard.

"Guess who?" a voice breathed in her ear, and she chuckled.

"Matthew Bellamy?"

"Guess again, Love,"

"Johnny Depp?" behind her, Tin-tin heard a snort.

"Well... It must be Paul McCartney," He turned her in his arms and smirked.

"Better," (_**a/n**_ _though I doubt that...)_ she pecked his lips, and Gordon rested his forehead on hers.

"Nearly finished?" She sighed lightly.

"Almost. But I can't afford any screw-ups again. Scott will crucify me,"

Gordon laughed, snatching another quick kiss.

"I'll leave you be then, Love," Tin-Tin smiled.

"I'll see you soon, Gordo,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

"_... So that's the grand adventure of Captain Jack Sparrow? You sat on a beach for three days, drinking Rum?"  
_"_... Welcome to the Caribbean, Love"_

"God, Alan. It's a beautiful day, and you're lounging around inside, watching old movies about pirates?"

The youngest Tracy brother glanced up at Virgil, who cocked an eyebrow, and leaned forward on the sofa back.

"What's up kiddo?" Alan laughed, a twinge of bitterness in his voice.

"Kiddo? I'm not that much younger than you, Virgil,"

"Young enough for it to make a difference," a grin broke out over the middle Tracy's features, and Alan rolled his eyes.

"Nice, Virgil. Nice," Virgil laughed, jumping up and over the leather sofa to take a seat near his brother.

"Now, what's up? I've never known you to crack out the Johnny Depp films unless there's a problem," Alan grimaced.

"You make me sound like such a _girl_,"

"There's nothing wrong with being into a pirate. Or a man with scissors for hands…" Virgil paused, as if carefully choosing his next words, "…though if you were more into the porn knockoff, then—" The darker haired boy was never given the opportunity to finish his thoughts as a pillow slammed into the side of his face.

His features darkened.

"I am so going to get you for that Alan Shephard Tracy," for the first time that day, Alan smirked.

"You and what army?"

Both sat, staring each other off, before Alan turned on heel and bolted off...

... Virgil, the more mature of the brothers, was right on his heels.

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Virg?" There was a light rapping at Virgil's door, and the boy looked up, hazelnut eyes absorbing his eldest brother's posture.

From the slight hunch in his shoulders, and the way his teeth sank into the tender flesh of his lower lip, Virgil could tell Scott was nervous.

"Come on in, Bro. What's up?" Scott shut the door behind him, and pulled Virgil's desk chair out, straddling the seat.

"It's about Alan and Gordon," he started, raking a hand through his hair, "I'm worried about the two of them. I mean, what if there's a rescue and they need to work together?"

"Come on Scott, give them a little credit. Both may be petty, childish prats, but they know what they can and can't do. And they wouldn't put lives in danger because of a childish fight. Alan and Gordon are more mature than tha..." seeing the look his brother gave him made Virgil falter, and the end of his sentence to die off into the ether.

"You have more faith in our brothers than I do then, Virgil. I wouldn't put it past Alan to start the whole "Virgil, can you tell Gordon he's a..." and so on and so forth," Virgil couldn't help but laugh.

"That would be an "Alan" thing to do. Look, if you're really worried about the two of them and their relationship, then maybe we should sit them down and talk to them about it,"

"That sounds rational,"

"Exactly. So it should work," Scott snorted.

"No, no it won't," a frown creased Virgil's features.

"Why not?"

"Because," Scott swung his leg back over the chair and stood, a smirk playing over his lips, "It's too rational. It's time for action, Virg. And I think I know what we can do..."

.1.1.1.1.1.

"IF YOU DON'T LET ME OUT OF THIS ROOM RIGHT NOW, YOUR ASS IS MINE, SCOTT CARPENTER TRACY!"

"DITTO VIRGIL GRISSOM TRACY!"

"What was that, Scott? Did they just... AGREE on something?" Virgil leaned against the door, watching as Scott ensured the lock was secure. Both brothers were sporting devious grins (_a/n which mine is NOT. Damn teachers.)_, and the middle Tracy brother was enjoying (shamelessly) stirring up his brothers.

"I swear Virgil. You. Are. So. Dead," Alan's voice had sunken dangerously low, which only made the two on the "safe" side of the door widen their smirks.

"Hey Al?"

"What."

"You and what army?"

"Pretty witty for a _dead man_,"

Virgil was enjoying this entirely too much.

"Pretty bitchy for a _straight man_,"

"So funny, I forgot to _LAUGH_,"

"I did enough for the both of us,"

"... SHUT UP VIRGIL!"

.1.1.1.1.1.

Scott boredly glanced at the clock, noting that three hours had passed since the elder Tracy brothers had lured their younger siblings into the small room which used to be the homework room.

So far, both had been kicking and screaming for near the three hours, and Scott realised (with some glee) that his shift for watching the door was almost up.

Soon enough, Virgil approached him, handing his brother a cup of coffee, before shooing him from the watch chair, and taking over.

Still, the hammering continued, but Virgil realised almost immediately that the thuds were slowing, and Alan's voice was becoming hoarser and hoarser with each yell. Gordon was still going, his voice strong (Virgil presumed because the young man was used to talking on end and never shutting up), though his hands and arms were tiring.

'_It shouldn't take too much longer_,' he thought, tilting his chair back slightly, stifling a yawn as boredom invaded each pore of his body.

Resting his head against the wall, Virgil tried not to fall asleep as he waited.

.1.1.1.1.1.

"They're not going to let us out until we come to some sort of agreement, Alan,"

"Get bent Gordon,"

"Real mature. It's exactly that sort of attitude that got us into this in the first place," the youngest Tracy rounded on his brother

"Exactly my WHAT?! I'm sorry, who slept with who's girlfriend here?"

"I didn't sleep with her, Alan. And you two had broken up!"

"Because of _you_,"

"No. Because you two weren't compatible,"

"So you're saying it's _my fault_!?"

"WHAT?! NO! God, you're such a self centred shit, Alan!"

"Oh, of course. I'm always the one with the problems, Gordon. Mr. Perfect is never at fault,"

"I never said I was perfect, you jackass. And maybe if you stopped and thought about this you'd realise—"

"I'd realise what? The girl I loved hated me and was more into my brother the whole time? My brother who I trusted with my_ life_ went behind my back and slept with my girlfriend? That my other brothers sided with him, and I got no support? She shattered my heart, Gordon. I don't think you know what that feels like,"

"No support? I'm sure Tara would love to hear that one. And how dare you, Alan! You think I don't know what it feels like? I've lost my fair share, Alan. God, Tin-tin and I were right to keep it from you. Because we knew you'd overreact and take it personally. You'd tell everyone that _you_ were wronged. That your brother is inherently evil, dating that succubus you just managed to escape. That everyone shout pity poor little Alan because he's been hurt by everyone else. Get over yourself, Alan. Not everything's about you,"

"I never claimed it _was_ Gordon! You're putting words in my mouth,"

"Of course. As the evil brother,"

"SHUT UP. JUST SHUT UP!" Alan hollered, his face going red.

"Look, you little prick. I'm going to put this simply. YOU were the one who went behind my back and had your little trysts with my girlfriend. YOU were the one who lied to me about it, and who could have told me. I'm hurt because you didn't tell me. I don't know if I can trust you, Gordon. You're evidently not the brother I thought you were," As soon as the words had left his mouth, Alan felt a biting tingle in the back of his neck.

There was silence in the room as the youngest Tracy gulped air post-tirade. Gordon raked his fingers through his hair, thinking through his words, before beginning softly.

"Alan. We've been brothers since the day you were born, and best friends since not long after. Long before Tin-Tin. And I can't believe we let a girl get in the way of it all,"

"You lied to be, Gordon. You both did,"

"I'm not saying we were totally in the right with this, I know that we should have just told you, but you have to admit you weren't the only victim here. You overreacted, and made the bad situation worse," The tingle became a shiver.

"Alan, I don't expect you to believe it, or accept my apology, but I am sorry. I'm sorry this whole thing happened, I'm sorry I ever hurt you, and I'm sorry I betrayed you and your trust," That bite in Alan's neck slowly crept through his body, and the youngest Tracy hung his head.

"I'm sorry too, Gordon," Alan looked up, bright blue eyes filling with tears, "But it hurt," Taking his younger brother into his arms, Gordon patted his back, squeezing his brother tightly.

"And I won't let it happen again, Al. I'm sorry,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

From their spot outside, Virgil and Scott pulled away from the door where their ears had been pressed, and grinned.

"We're damn good brothers Virgil Grissom,"

"You're telling me, Scott Carpenter,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Whoopee Cushion,"

"For locking us in a room? Not a chance. They're not getting off easy,"

"Sneezing powder?" Gordon winced.

"Not after the lecture we got last time from Dad," Alan grinned.

"_You can't mess with the delicate membrane of Scott's nose!_" Gordon laughed, taking a seat on his desk.

"What we need is something they won't expect. But what great pranks have we pulled they won't see from a mile away?"

Both pondered in silence, before Alan's eyes lit up, and he turned to his older brother.

Gordon, seeing the enlightened look felt something in his own mind click.

Immediately, the two spoke together.

"Tara,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

Scratching furiously, Virgil beat at Scott's door the next morning. It slowly opened, and Virgil began.

"God, Scott. Have a look. Am I coming out in chick— What happened to you?" Scott's face was set in a frown as he stood. His hair was plastered down to his forehead, white feathers strewn through his matted, sticky hair.

"I just had a shower, and washed my hair,"

"You missed a spot," the eldest Tracy shot him a look.

"Har-har. Very funny. I thought I was using shampoo, but it didn't come out. So I came out to look in the mirror, but I slipped on a rollerblade by my bed and fell onto my pillow," Virgil held back a snicker as his brother stood back, showing the rollerblade and the pillow to his brother. Virgil stepped inside the room, and walked over to the down-covered bed, where he picked up a crushed feather and examined it.

"Cut open?"

"Wide open,"

"Gotcha," Alan leaned against the doorframe, a devious grin playing over his lips.

"Thought you two might like some payback," Gordon spoke, a lazy smile dragging across his lips.

Scott snarled.

"This shit had better come out," Alan's eyes opened wide, and he looked stunned (though so stunned the brothers knew it was an act).

"Oh Scott! Language!"

And once again, Alan Tracy found himself bolting away from his brother as the more "mature" sibling followed, hot on his heels.

Gordon laughed, though his joy was short lived before Virgil smashed Scott's open pillow over his brother's head, covering the younger sibling in duck down.

"Oh, I'm gonna get you for that one," Virgil grinned.

"I doubt that,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

From the breakfast table, Jeff couldn't help but smile as he realised his sons were all on friendly speaking terms again.

... Now he just had to hope Scott didn't attempt to drown the younge—

Oh. Too late.

* * *

_**A/N** And so ends Chapter 24._

_To start with, I just want to thank all of you wonderful, wonderful reviewers who have stuck with me through this drought in my writing._

_Thanks to your support, I finally feel I can start writing again, and build towards that long-awaited point in the story: Tara's Father._

_Right now, however, I'm going to study for my final two examinations (Music and Latin. Oh how effing fun), and then prepare for... MUSIC CAMP! (a.k.a. sugar high percussionists who somehow manage to miss a 10 inch snare drum, and form funny looking bruises on their knees… yes, readers, that would be your beloved flame-faerie I'm talking about…)_

_At any rate, thanks again for all your reviews and support, and, even though we're not supposed to do shout-outs anymore, Thankyou all!_

_(Also, if you'd like me to respond to any of your reviews, just leave me an e-mail address in them, and I'd be happy to send you a response... ... and if I'm feeling generous, sections of the next chapter...)_

_Five Chapters until the Father-Complex!_

_Much love,_

_The Flame Faerie_

_P.S. Johnny Depp rocks my proverbial cartoon socks._

_P.P.S. ... so does David Tennant ("Ooh baby, I'm beating out a SAMBA!" – worst distraction when one is pretending/attempting to study.)_

_P.P.P.S. TGA Love! (from co-president Doctor Illegal)_

_P.P.P.P.S. I passed my Latin test! The one only I was given...! The horrible, horrible test I was given on topics I taught myself! Huzzah!_

_P.P.P.P.P.S. My laptop has a microphone and I never noticed... ... oh WHY are the gods taunting me _now_, before I discovered how I could cheat?!_

_P.P.P.P.P.P.S. If you wish for an update within the next 6 years, I wouldn't point out my blatant overuse of postscripts._


	25. Visitation Rights

_**A/N** Whoever invented the ATCL Performance exam should be introduced to the Hangman's noose._

* * *

**Chapter 27:** Visitation Rights

* * *

A few weeks after the patch-up between Alan and Gordon, the former was lounging around the house, watching old movies he found in his father's collection. 

About 15 minutes into the last movie he switched it off, and got up, stretching, and heading into the kitchen for a drink. He opened the fridge, wondering what he'd chose.

Instead of a bounty of drinks, however, he found a single slip of paper.

_**I O U the contents of a fridge**_

"GORDON!"

* * *

Later that day, the youngest Tracy was upstairs in his room, lying back on his bed whilst he read the latest _Rolling Stone_ magazine, finding a fascinating article about the Beatles revivement movement. 

It was then he heard a car roll up on the driveway. And, of course, his head snapped up and he listened carefully.

"I know those engines," he whispered, springing off his bed, and looking out the window.

"FAB 1,"

And he was downstairs in an instant, in the hope of seeing the young blonde teen he'd become increasingly fond of.

"Where's the fire?" Scott quipped, earning only a dark look from his youngest brother.

"Bite me," Scott grimaced.

"That would be called _Cannibalism_, little brother, and is indeed frowned upon in most societies,"

"Very funny, Scott. I can barely keep my sides from splitting," Alan's deadpan only received a wide grin from his brother.

"I thought so,"

"Knob," Alan muttered under his breath, continuing down the stairs. The eldest Tracy, on the other hand, laughed and made his way up to his room.

"Penny!" Jeff beamed as the elegant lady entered the Tracy dining area. She surveyed the room, resting a hand on her hip as she raised her eyebrows.

"This is remarkably empty for lunch time, Jeff,"

"They're all asleep," he laughed, "Speaking of which, where is that daughter of yours?"

"Tara? Oh she's—"

"Lady P!" and the rest of the family came thundering down the stairs.

"Gordon! Virgil! Scott! Alan! How lovely to see you all!"

"Where's Tara?" Alan piped up, trying (oh _so_ hard) to sound nonchalant.

Behind him, Virgil and Scott exchanged smirks (in their opinion, he failed.)

"As I was just telling your father, my daughter is currently at Cambridge University, looking around in the open day,"

"So she's finally decided what she wants to be, eh?" Gordon held a hand to his heart, "Our little Tars is finally growing up,"

Lady Penelope laughed.

"Well, with her International Baccalaureate final marks, Tara's gained admission to medicine in several universities across the globe. So now it's just an issue of where,"

"_Medicine?_" Virgil was incredulous, "Tara-the-delinquent is going to be a doctor?" Penelope fixed him with a look.

"Tara-the-delinquent, as you so _eloquently_ put it, Virgil, put a lot of thought into this. She ultimately decided that medicine would most benefit International Rescue,"

"Atta girl," Jeff beamed, "She's certainly matured, Penny,"

"Indeed she has," the blonde nodded in agreement, before a darker look crossed her features, "Though I'm still not happy about that belly-button piercing," the boys laughed at that.

"Miss. Tara sends you all 'er best, 'owever," Parker took off his white driving-gloves and hat, "She was most disappointed tha' she could not be 'ere when she found out where 'er mother was going this hafternoon,"

"She's not the only one," Gordon muttered to Virgil, who bit back a laugh. Alan (thank God) didn't hear his brother's comment, so couldn't reply with the standard "SHUT UP GORDON!" which the situation normally warranted from the youngest Tracy.

"Now what does a lady have to do for a cup of tea?" Penelope took a seat at the table opposite Jeff, and Kyrano appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray.

"Lady Grey, M'Lady?" Penelope beamed, taking the teacup.

"You read my mind, Kyrano," the housekeeper beamed, resting the tray on the table.

"And here are some snacks for the boys while I finish lunch,"

"Awesome!" Gordon dove onto the nibblies, earning a disapproving look from both his father and the Lady.

Parker, however, just laughed along with his brothers.

* * *

_Weeks later._

"_Calling International Rescue! Come in International Rescue!"_

John Tracy looked up from his book (_The true and unequivocal story explaining lack of updates – The Flame Faerie_) and slid his chair over to the panel.

"This is International Rescue. What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh thank God we got on to you! We need help! The Lucas Heights reactor is going to meltdown any minute! There's a huge problem with the cooling rods and we don't have the equipment to get in there and fix them!"

"Have the staff been evacuated?"

"Yes! But the reactor is in the middle of suburbia! We can't evacuate them all!" John groaned, scrawling the details down.

"I'll contact our home base and we'll be out there shortly,"

"Oh _Thankyou_ International Rescue!"

"International Rescue base, this is Thunderbird 5..."

* * *

"Virgil, you and Alan will head into the facility and see what you can do about the cooling rods. Gordon, Scott, you two will clear the area of residents should something happen," 

Alan frowned.

"Way to instil confidence, Dad," Jeff shot his youngest a withering look and the young man pouted, glancing at his brothers.

"Thunderbirds are go," the four stood, heading to their various transport locations.

* * *

"Thunderbird one, this is Thunderbird two," 

"Go ahead Virg,"

"We're about 15 minutes away, Scott. How's crowd control going?"

"We've cleared a 100m radius of houses. Gordon and I are still working, but some people don't appear to _want_ to leave,"

"Well, would you Scott?" the elder Tracy seemed to consider this.

"If I were going to die if I didn't, then yes,"

"Some people will sacrifice themselves to stay with their belongings and loved ones, Scott. It happens all the time. Remember when we learnt about the Australian 1994 Bushfires in school? Or the Titanic and the families onboard,"

"Alright Virg. We'll see you when you get here,"

"FAB,"

* * *

When Thunderbird two touched down in Lucas Heights, Scott and Gordon came to meet Virgil and Alan as they descended from the ship. Both were dressed in radiation heat suits, their true identities obscured by the helmets. 

"Ready to go in, Alan?" Gordon asked his youngest brother, patting him on the shoulder.

"Ready as I'll ever be," the youngest shrugged, glancing at Virgil.

"FAB, little brother," Gordon gave him a hug, "Good Luck,"

"You too, Gordo,"

* * *

"_Virgil!_" The blood was pounding in Alan's ears. 

"_Virgil!_" he coughed, his chest and throat tight. He didn't know when it had all gone wrong.

"_Virgil, where are you?!_" Blue eye watered as the smog in the air grew thicker.

Somewhere in the distance, the youngest Tracy heard a faint voice call his name.

_Alan._

He stumbled towards it; closer to the bright light that peered through the thick, hot air.

"_Virgil?_"

_Through here, Alan_.

Alan wasn't sure when he'd lost his headgear, or even when he'd misplaced his brother in the reactor.

He just hoped that Virgil had done something to fix the reactor while Alan had cleared it of its workers.

_Alan, over here._

* * *

"The danger zone is cleared, Scott. Everyone's out and prepared. Any word from Alan and Virgil?" 

"None," Scott watched the reactor with a pensive face, "Neither of them are responding to hails,"

Gordon swore, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his IR uniform, "I hope they're alright,"

"They will be Gordon. They always are,"

* * *

"Virgil!" Alan gasped, stumbling into the reactor room, "What's with the steam?" 

The darker haired brother span to face the blonde, eyes widening immediately.

"Alan," his deep voice crackled through the radiation helmet, "Where's your headgear?"

"I lost it," Alan gulped in air, "How much longer?"

"A few more minutes, Alan. Think you can hold on?"

"Yeah," and he promptly passed out.

Virgil swore, dragging his brother to a sitting position before he turned back to the cooling rods and releasing the last load of cold water onto the nuclear reactor. A loud sizzling sound rose from the rod pit, filling the room with another, final lot of hot steam.

The danger had passed from the suburb of Lucas Heights.

It was more than he could say for his brother.

* * *

Virgil sat by Alan's bed, watching his brother over laced fingers. 

"How is he?" Tin-Tin stood behind the middle Tracy, resting a small hand on Virgil's shoulder.

"Stable. The doctors say he was just overheated and dehydrated. He should be waking up any day now,"

"But he hasn't yet," Scott said from the doorway, sighing.

"He will," Gordon's voice was firm as he pushed past his eldest brother, "Alan has this amazing ability to bounce back from things,"

* * *

_**A/N** Having written the last chapters of Kryptonite, you have no idea how much that last line cracks me up._

_So really, nothing happened in this chapter... apart from Alan going into a weird coma because he got overheated and dehydrated._

_Really, it's just a giant filler._

… _well, not giant. It peaks at just over five pages long in MS Word. But an update is an update closer to Tara's father, yes?_

… _okay. I'll be quiet and go write Chapter 26 – From the desk of Tara Belle._

_Also, I'm sorry the chapter sucked. I'll try to do better next time._

_Ooh. and Reviews - yes, I'm grinning like an idiot:_

**hope99:** Hehe. Sadly, the idea of locking them in a room together came from the Simpsons. Good ol' cable had a re-run and I watched it, before being suddenly struck by the thought "_Hang on. What if I did that to Alan and Gordon"_ and devious thoughts sprung from there :) Thanks for the review!

**Zac's my boyfriend:** :) I live to give. Thanks for reviewing!

**money makes me smile:** hugs Thanks for sticking with me all this time :) I promise I'll get Tara's father chapter out as soon as humanely possible (I'm thinking before the end of February). Thanks so much for the support and review:)

**lopasded123:** Hehe. I'll try to update sooner, I promise. Thanks for the review :)

**ukficchick:** Hahaha. I'm glad I could keep you entertained while you're in bed sick (It's a bummer. I know). And lucky you for finishing school. Seriously. I'm going insane and I haven't even started my penultimate year. Gaah. Thanks for the review!

**PadFootCc:** :). I'm seriously promising faster updates. For now. Promise. Thanks for reviewing:P

**AshleyEH:** :) Short and sweet. I like it :D. Thanks for reviewing!

**Aswen:** I know! It was forever since the last chapter, but you'll be pleased to know it was finding your review that made me kick myself and finish this absolutely terrible chapter. The next one is slightly better... ... kinda. Thanks for reviewing!

**Harmonic-Bad-Wolf**: Oooh! That "Bad Wolf" wouldn't happen to be from Doctor Who, would it? grins Yeah. I've vowed never, ever, ever to watch "New Earth" while writing again. Or Tooth and Claw... teehee...

... or Doomsday and Runaway bride. Can we say tissues, tears and comfort cookies? (if you're in the TGA: Comfort David Cookies...)

It's awesome to hear from other Tennantitis sufferers though. Thanks for the wonderful comments and David fan love!

_Cheers,_

_Flame Faerie_


	26. From the Desk of Tara Belle

_**a/n** John's dialogue has come directly from my New Years, from the drunken mouth of a young man (who shall remain nameless) who skulled a bottle of absinthe, half a bottle of champagne, several beers, a few vodka cruisers, some double blacks, a load of Jim Bean, Jack Daniels and Bundy rum, some smirnoff, and a few shots of God knows what during a game of Centurions, stumbled back to the party and was cared for my myself (the model of sobriety – because I is a good little girl who doesn't underagedly drink – having witnessed alcohol poisoning enough from eldest brother) and a friend who has a good liver (she can hold her vodka). He later stood up at 3 am (after passing out on the floor in my friend's house and being kicked my several people) and wet himself._

* * *

**Chapter 26: **From the desk of Tara Belle

* * *

A few days later, the entire Tracy family on the island raced into Alan's room where the youngest had regained consciousness, and was sipping at the water Tin-tin gave him. 

"Hey little bro," Gordon grinned as Alan smiled at him weakly.

"Miss anything interesting?" he asked in a raspy voice. Virgil smiled, picking up an envelope off Alan's bedside.

"Lady P dropped by yesterday with a letter for you," he handed the letter to his youngest brother.

"For me? From who?"

Scott and Gordon exchanged glances, trying not to laugh.

"We'll leave you to find out," Jeff shepherded his sons from the room, glancing back at his youngest.

"We're glad you're alright Alan,"

"Thanks Dad,"

"You're not going on another mission for a while, son," Alan scowled at that.

As soon as his room was empty, Alan turned the envelope over in his hands, taking in the distinct, curled, _girly_ writing on its author.

_To: Alan Tracy_

_c/o Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward,_

_Creighton-Ward Manor_

He slid his finger under the seal, withdrawing the thick pieces of paper from within

_From the desk of Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward_

_Dear Alan,_

_Wow. Long time no talk, eh? I think the last time would have been... my graduation. Which seems almost like a lifetime ago since I started college._

_To start with, I want to tell you I did not appreciate your brothers' comments on my choice to complete a medicine degree – I'll have you all know that "Tara-the-delinquent" is completely and utterly capable of becoming a doctor._

_So there, take that, and be careful of where you sleep next time I come for a visit. My new roommates have given me plenty of ideas._

_Mind you, I shouldn't be so surprised of their reaction. Frances and Stephanie (the girls I'm rooming with) don't seem to be buying my "Tara-is-sweet-and-innocent" act._

_Perhaps I should start from the beginning, eh?_

_A few days after my mother's visit, I finally decided on where I wanted to go, and sent in my admissions package. I was thrilled to receive a spot in the medicine course at Oxford University. But then came the question of where I was going to live, right? So I looked into dorms and on-campus living, although (much to my chagrin) entrance was difficult. More trouble than it was worth at any rate. So, a little pissed off, I went to one of the coffee houses and quite literally _ran into_ another "freshman". We got talking and she mentioned that she was looking for another roommate for an apartment she shared with a friend of hers from high school (seems the third friend they planned on moving in with backed out at the last minute). I mentioned I was looking for somewhere to stay and she invited me to have a look at their place._

_Needless to say, I found the four bedroom apartment to be charming and bloody well perfect for what they were asking._

_A few days later, I moved out of my room in the Creighton-Ward manor (Mother cried.) and into my new "pad" (I believe that's what Gordon would call it, anyway)._

_The only problem is that I now need to find a job. _

_Bugger._

_I've been looking into a few things, mostly jobs that I could never admit to being paid for doing to any of your brothers _ever_, because let's face it – none of you are good at letting things drop._

_We all remember the time John got really drunk and belted out "Bohemian Rhapsody" at the top of his lungs from the highest point on Tracy Island (God knows how he got there)._

Alan looked up from the letter at this point, a smirk dancing over his lips at the memory.

He had only been 14 at the time, and they were celebrating something (most of the details had become hazy over the years, but the important parts remained forever burned into his mind).

It was one of the funniest (and most memorable) moments in Alan's young life, and one of the rare times he had seen the normally prim and proper John Tracy smashed off his face.

* * *

"_John, just how much _have_ you had to drink?_" _Virgil asked his older brother, sniffing at his glass cautiously._

"_Not enough! Let's pa—pa— you seven," John's words were slurred and Gordon couldn't help but laugh._

"_You are so lucky Dad's not here," Scott pointed out, taking a swig from the double black he'd been cradling for the past hour, "Or your ass would be kicked,"_

"_Pa—pa—pooper," John tried to frown but failed miserably, "C'mon! Let's have some fuuun!"_

"_Alan?" 10 year old Tara was seated, wide eyed, next to the youngest Tracy son, "Is John okay?"_

"_Yeah. John's fine. He's just a little drunk," At this point, John was holding onto a pole Brains had installed for the boys to slide down to the Thunderbird Silo's on, and was dragging himself around it, dancing in a way the two seated on the sofa presumed was supposed to be an attractive way._

_The others watched as wide eyed as the young blonde._

"_John...?" Tara asked timidly and the blonde man turned to her, a wide grin on his drunken features._

"_Tara! You eight!" the girl's brow furrowed._

"_Me... _eight_...?" she muttered more to herself than anyone else, "Me ten, damn it," _

_John didn't seemed disheartened by this, however, and continued swinging and dancing on the pole._

"_What time is Dad due home with Lady P?" Virgil asked, almost fearful._

"_Not for another few hours. We should probably try to sober him up before then," Scott responded._

"_Um Scott?" Tara cleared her throat, "John just left,"_

_The eldest Tracy groaned._

"_Where did he go?"_

"_Outside," Alan pointed to the glass door, "I was sure he'd pass out before he got there, but once again, John surprised us all,"_

"_And where's Gordon gone?" the edge of suspicion in Virgil's voice was sharp._

"_With him," Tara responded simply._

_The elder brothers groaned and raced out after them._

_Tara and Alan trailed, more than highly amused at these antics._

_- - - - -_

_The four split up into three groups, Virgil scouring the beach; Scott searching the woods, and Alan and Tara combing through the house in hopes of finding the second eldest and second youngest Tracy brothers. With John loaded to the gunnels, there was no telling what he'd do, and with Gordon..._

_Well, with Gordon, there was never any knowing what he'd do._

_And that was when they heard it._

_From up in the top of the Thunderbird 3 Silo._

"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?  
Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality  
Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see  
I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy  
Because I'm easy come, easy go  
Little high, little low  
Anyway the wind blows doesn't really matter to me  
To me..."

"_He's up there!" Virgil hollered, pointing to the roof._

"_Congratulations, Sherlock. I wonder how you find them?" Alan snapped in response, looking up in the cold night air. _

_It was obvious Gordon had something to do with this._

_John was inside the Silo, still, in the ring walkway around the top. He was leaning against the window frame, belting out through the open glass._

_Gordon had switched on the intercom up there so John's drunken ravings were magnified all around the island at every microphone port; _and_ he'd turned on the spotlights. Drunken!John had become a spectacle._

_The four immediately started towards the silo._

"Momma, just killed a man  
Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he's dead  
Momma, life had just begun and now I've gone and thrown it all away

Momma, oh-oo-ooh  
Didn't mean to make you cry  
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,  
Carry on, carry on  
Nothing really matters,"

_Tara had to admire the fact that while John was blind drunk, he was still managing to get all the words out in a way they could be understood. Not only that, but his intonation appeared to have improved on what it was when he was sober._

_As a friend of hers, a raving author who fails to update regularly would have said:_

**You'd honestly be surprised how often that happens.**

"Too late, my time has come  
Sends shivers down my spine,  
Body's achin' all the time  
Goodbye everybody, I've got to go  
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth

Momma, oh-oo-ooh,  
I don't wanna die  
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all"

_And over the intercom, Gordon went into a vocal guitar solo._

_Scott vowed at that moment to pummel his second youngest brother when he got a hold of him._

"I see a little silhouette of a man,  
Scaramouch, Scaramouch will you do the fandango?  
Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening to me!

Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Galileo Figaro.  
Magnifico-o-o-o  
I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me,"

_And Gordon's voice joined with John's._

"He's just a poor boy from a poor family,  
spare him his life for this monstrosity,"

"Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?"

"_I'm going to kill Gordon," Virgil roared, bounding up the stairs two at a time towards the silo. _

"_Virgil, take the lift!" Alan called to his brother, pressing the call button._

_As soon as it had opened, however, he grimaced and ran after his brother up the stairs._

_Scott and Tara peered in, the young blonde immediately standing back, holding her nose._

"_Gross," she looked away. Scott closed the elevator doors._

"_I'm going to strangle them both," he said, calmly._

_... too calmly._

"Bismillah! No, we will not let you go,"  
"Let him go!"  
"Bismillah! We will not let you go,"  
"Let him go!"  
"Bismillah! We will not let you go,"  
"Let me go," "Will not let you go,"  
"Let me go," "Will not let you go,"  
"Let me go-o-o,"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

"Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia let me go!  
Beelzebub has the Devil put aside for me, for me, for me!"_ John's "dulcet" falsetto notes made everyone wince._

_And once again, they were treated to Gordon's intercom-guitar._

"So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye!  
So you think you can love me and lead me to die!  
Oh baby. Can't do this to me baby!  
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of here,"

_They were nearing the top now._

"Nothing really matters, anyone can see  
Nothing really matters.  
Nothing really matters to me...  
_Any way the wind blows..._"

_and there was a resounding thud as Virgil kicked the door down._

* * *

With a laugh at the memory, Alan continued to read. 

_So regardless to say, I won't say anything of my employment opportunities to your brothers._

_I value my dignity._

_As I'm sure your brothers value their masculinity._

_At any rate, I should probably let you get back to whatever it was you were doing before you opened the letter, as I should get back to paying attention to psyche._

_Blergh._

_With any luck, I'll be able to drop in to see you soon (fingers crossed there), and I hope you're all happy and healthy (because if you're not, Alan Shepherd Tracy, I will get you for it, I swear) and that things at _your father's business_ aren't too hectic for you all._

_Heard about Lucas Heights by the way. Nice work._

_Alright. I'm on the verge of getting busted for not paying attention._

_Lots of Love,_

_Cheers, _

_Tara_

Alan read through the letter again, before folding it up and sliding it back into the white envelope it had been delivered in. He placed it back on his bedside table and kicked back the blankets, standing slowly.

He couldn't explain it, but he suddenly had the urge to call John.

Biting back the smirk which threatened to dance over his lips, Alan sat down at his desk and dialled the number of Thunderbird 5.

* * *

Virgil was the first to look up when Alan descended the stairs for what seemed like the first time that week, noting the devious grin on his youngest brother's face. 

"Okay. What did you do?" The dark brows of the middle brother knitted together as his chocolate eyes watched the youngest cross the living room to the kitchen.

"Gave John a call," Alan responded simply, opening the fridge and removing the carton of orange juice, "Had a reminiscing session,"

This just made Virgil all the more suspicious.

"About what?"

"Oh, this and that. Time in space, missions... the time he got really drunk and gave the whole island a concert," Virgil couldn't hold in the snort of laughter that bubbled from his throat and burst through his lips.

"Bohemian Rhapsody again? He must have been thrilled,"

"He thought I'd forgotten. I almost had, but a little bird flew in and reminded me,"

"Oh?" Virgil cocked an eyebrow, "and who might that little bird be? Gordon?" Alan chuckled, shaking his head.

"Tara,"

"Of course," the darker haired man deadpanned, "She would remember, wouldn't she?"

"She's like an elephant," Alan winked, sipping at his juice, "Never forgets,"

"I'm going to tell her you said that," a voice came from the doorway, "She's gonna _kill_ you for that comment,"

"How is she, Gordon?" Scott entered from the other side of the room, reading a magazine as he walked, "Just because Alan likened Tara to an elepha—" the eldest realised he'd answered his own question as the others burst into cackling laughter.

"Brats," Scott frowned, shoving Gordon from the doorway and heading outside to the pool area. The red head crossed the room to the kitchen, taking a swig from Alan's glass.

"You wouldn't have us any other way!" Alan called after him and Virgil shook his head.

"I don't recommend going down that path, kiddo. You don't want to get him started,"

"Besides," Gordon poked his youngest brother, "Don't you have a letter to write to a certain doctor-in-training?" Alan stopped laughing and turned to face his brother.

"How'd you know it was from Tara?"

Gordon held a finger to his temple and considered it.

"Duuhh... Lady P came and dropped it off," his voice had a deep, Neanderthal quality to it, "and she said it wuz from Tara. Lucky guess, huh?" Alan punched him lightly, taking the half-empty glass of OJ and heading towards the stairs.

"Guess I do, huh. Should go and call Lady P then to get the address,"

"Give her our best," Virgil piped up from the sofa, "And thank her for the herbal teas. Dad's be so much more placid lately..."

* * *

_**a/n** We're almost at that ground breaking chapter, kids! Chapter 29: Revelations is coming up very, very soon._

_Next chapter is quite literally a filler. A huge filler._

_And the last of the Tara-less chapters (because letters don't count as actual Tara Creighton-Ward. They just don't capture the snappy wit of our favourite delinquent lady..._

_Thankyou so much to my reviewers - you've given this author a reason to put off her Chemistry homework. whee. :)_

_Cheers,_

_Flame Faerie_

_**P.S.** The Bohemian Rhapsody – Queen scene is almost directly lifted from my new years. Except replace "Thunderbird 3 silo" with "trampoline" and "intercom" with "many drunken voices"... and "spotlight" with "backyard lights"..._

_And finally "John" with "Friend's ex-boyfriend"_


	27. Engine Troubles

_**a/n** I own everything. Thunderbirds? Mine. Harry Potter? Totally mine. Pirates of the Caribbean? You'd better believe it's mine. And Johnny Depp + David Tennant? Entirely mine._

_:wakes up from amazing dream:_

_What? Huh? OOH! TARDIS-SHAPED COOKIES!_

* * *

**Chapter 27:** Engine Troubles

* * *

Penelope turned the thick envelope over in her hands again and again. 

A mother couldn't be blamed for being curious as to what her daughter was sending to a member of the opposite sex, could she?

She placed the letter gingerly on the coffee table and laced her fingers together on her lap, trying to ignore the itching in them to find out whatever thoughts Tara had poured out to Alan.

She'd looked happy, Penelope mulled, reflecting on when she last saw her daughter. Tara was positively glowing. She'd moved in with some friends at college and was having a fabulous time living with them. And she had a job now.

Her dress was as snappy as ever, her wit as sharp, and she was healthy. Healthy and happy and _glowing_.

She knew she should be happy for Tara Belle, but she just wanted her daughter home.

Sighing, the aristocrat sipped at her tea and eyed the letter again.

She supposed she should deliver it.

It was, after all, Tara's final words.

"_Don't forget the letter, mother," there was a playful scowl on the girl's face, "and don't even _think_ of reading it. I sealed the envelope with wax for a reason,"_

'_Apart from the pyromania_,' Penelope thought wryly.

She set her cup down and rang the bell for Parker. It was time to visit the Tracy boys, she supposed, and to play the mailman.

Or mail woman, as the case would be.

... though a most definitely better dressed mailwoman than they would ever see.

* * *

"I'm sorry, m'lady, but we can't visit, teh Tracy's just yet," Parker wiped his furrowed brow with an oily hand, "there seems to be a... problem... wit 'er hengines," he indicated Fab 1, "hand it seems that I can't get 'er running for hat least a week," 

Penelope clicked her tongue irritably. The longer it took to get to Alan, the longer it would be before she could read the last letter Tara sent, Alan's response, and this new work from her daughter.

"Is there any way we can fix her faster, Parker?" the butler shook his head.

"No, m'lady. A week is heven bein' optimistic," Penelope's eyebrows knit together.

"Well I suppose I will just have to call Jeff and ask him to send one of the boys out to pick me up,"

"Would you like me to get Master Tracy on teh phone?"

"No, it's alright Parker. You keep working on Fab 1 and let me know if you fix her sooner than expected,"

"Yes, m'lady,"

* * *

"_... I'm sorry Penny, we're absolutely swamped here. It must be idiots day out or something because it seems _everyone_ needs international rescue. What did you need?"_ Penelope pursed her lips. 

Damn.

"Oh, nothing much Jeff. I just wanted to let you know that I would be dropping in to see you boys in a bit,"

"_Fabulous Penny! We'll be glad to have you. Will Tara be with you?"_

"No, she's very wrapped up in her new job and college. I have to say I've never seen her so focused on her education before. It's almost scary," Jeff laughed.

"_You'd be surprised what college does to kids these days. Well, I'll have Virgil set out the landing area for Fab 1,"_

"Oh, I'm not taking Fab 1, Jeff," Penelope waved a hand at the notion, "I'm flying out commercially. There's a problem with her engines and I simply cannot wait for Parker to finish repairing her. My daughter's entrusted me with a very special letter for your youngest and I must deliver it post haste," Jeff's throaty laugh brought a smile to Penelope's lips.

"_You mean you simply must know what's in it, right Penny?"_ she scowled.

"You know me too well, Jeff,"

"_Well, like mother like daughter,"_ he grinned, "_Give me the details of your flight and I'll send the boys out to pick you up when you come in,"_

"Thank you Jeff. You're too kind,"

* * *

_**Name:** Creighton-Ward, Penelope (Lady)_

_**Flight:** CA 1813_

_**Departure:** London International Airport at 8:17 a.m._

_**Destination:** California International Airport at 4:35 p.m._

Penelope examined her neat scrawl over the paper as she hung up her phone.

8:17 a.m. flight.

She frowned.

'_I'd better pack now_,' the woman supposed, '_if I'm to get anywhere near enough rest to be cheerful tomorrow morning rather than the beast Tara claims I am if I don't get my 8 hours,'_

And so Penelope folded, contemplated and packed her 22-piece luggage set for her two-day trip to California, before sliding inbetween her warm sheets and snuggling down to a peaceful night of rest.

* * *

The next morning, Penelope rose early and had Parker load her bags into one of the other cars before setting out to the airport. 

On the way, she couldn't help but place a call to her daughter.

"_Hello...?_" came the groggy response of the blonde, her hair covering her face so that she resembled something out of an Ed Wood horror movie.

"Tara darling, it's your mother,"

"_Mother...?"_ her thin fingers fought to comb the blonde mess from infront of her bright eyes, "_Do you have any idea what time it is?"_

"Yes dear. I just wanted to tell you that I'm flying out to Tracy Island today and wanted to find out if there's anything you wanted or needed?"

"_Yes, in fact, there is,"_ she drawled, "_more sleep. Goodnight mother,"_ and Penelope couldn't help but laugh at her daughter – something she was joined by Parker in.

"She certainly takes hafter 'er mother in teh mornin's, m'lady," Penelope chuckled.

* * *

"So we're going to wait for Lady Penelope at the Airport," Scott repeated slowly, Jeff nodding. 

"She's decided to fly in to California, yes,"

"What the hell for?"

"Language Gordon," Jeff chided, "And she has some things she needs to deliver,"

"So we'll head out then," Virgil grinned "Shotgun,"

"I'm driving," Alan moaned at Scott's demand.

"You drive like an old woman, Scott! Grandma drives better than you!" Gordon sniggered.

"We'll never get to the airport in time to pick Lady P up,"

Scott gave his brother a look.

"Well Alan, you drive like a maniac. If you drove, we wouldn't get to the airport in one piece,"

"You've driven with me once!" Alan retorted, pouting.

"Look, Tara likes driving with you. Tara's been known to like risky things. That's enough for me,"

Virgil looked up from the piano.

"Father, is Tara coming with Lady Penelope?" Jeff shook his head.

"No. Now Tara's moved out and started college she's been working pretty hard, according to her mother. She has a job and everything,"

Gordon smiled slightly at the thought of the girl working. Something good and respectable, he hoped.

"That's right! She's moved out of the Creighton-Ward manor," Jeff nodded again, leaning back in his desk chair.

"Right boys - you'd better get going," He looked over at his two youngest sons, "Don't you two dare do anything stupid,"

Gordon gaped.

"Would _we_ do someth--" he trailed off at Jeff's glare, "… Yes father,"

* * *

_**a/n** and by "big filler" I mean "little tiny thing which is lamely not funny and written at 2:42 a.m. as procrastination instead of doing my biology assessment task and study for chemistry"._

_... and Horace translations. Because I am the queen of the nerds. BOW DOWN BEFORE THINE QUEEN!_

_...also wishing it were last week. Classics dinner – greatly fun and Chem excursion..._

_... well, not as fun. But good none the less. Steelmaking. Whee._

**Money makes me smile:** Aaah. It seems to be an old favourite for everyone's friends to crack out when they're entirely smashed. Or when you're trying to sleep. And, of course, the inner percussionist in you wakes you up, yells at them that they're out of time, claps a few bars and then collapses back into sleep. ... not that I'd know or anything...

**Harmonic-Bad-Wolf:** Whee!! Can't wait for season 3 to start down here. Runaway bride made me cry. Anyway. Thanks for the review :) I hope I haven't warped your perception of John too much...

**AshleyEH:** teehee. Hope this was soon enough! I'm glad you liked the chapter :)

**Aswen:** hehe. Aww, they're not that bad. Except when we get rowdy. Which happens frequently. Hmm. Thanks for the review!

_Cheers,_

_Teh Flame Faerie_

_**Tara's Dad Countdown:** his first appearance is.. CHAPTER 28! THE NEXT CHAPTER! WHEEEEEEE!!!!!_

_But really, the whole Tara-Dad interaction thing happens Chapter 29. Hah. Made you happy._

_... I want my blue hair back._


	28. Air Hostess

_**a/n** This is a quick update - I have assignments and exam prep to do. I'm not sure how much time I'd get in the next week to update, so I thought "what the hey. Give 'em a surprise gift". SURPRISE! TWO UPDATES IN A WEEK! BETCHA DIDN'T SEE THAT COMING!_

_Now I'm going to nurse my sunburn and sulk. While also feeling oddly satisfied that I managed to peg one of my teachers in the face with a sopping wet sponge. And by "peg" I mean "cheated, ran up and smashed him in the face with it". Mmm. Really satisfies._

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 28** – Air Hostess _and some insights to the mind of Tara Belle_

* * *

"Ooh! Look Scott! The moth's beating us!" Alan pointed out the window and Gordon laughed, hi-fiving Alan.

"Alan, unless you want to spend a 6 month stint up in Thunderbird 5, I'd shut up right now," Scott deadpanned, changing lanes up the highway. Alan crossed his arms over his chest and sulked.

* * *

Fab 2 was about half an hour into the trip to the airport when the car phone rang, settings set only on voice. Suspiciously, Penelope accepted the call. 

"Hello?"

"Penelope?" the aristocrat sank into her seat in shock.

"What the hell do you want?!" She hissed angrily, only hearing a laugh.

"Why Pen! You've certainly changed from the cheery teenager you were 20 years ago..."

Penelope glowered.

"Well, that's what happens when you fall pregnant," the voice laughed again.

"That's exactly what I'm calling you about, Penelope. I've got the paper in my hands... Mail's a little slow where I'm living right now... why didn't you tell me my daughter's a hero? And a little genius to boot. My little... Ta-ra,"

"She's not your daughter, Lionel. She's mine. You gave up that right to paternity when you walked out on me."

"But if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have a daughter,"

Penelope's fingers clenched around the phone, her knuckles turning white.

"What do you want?"

"I'm coming to London, Penelope. I want to see my daughter,"

"You stay where you are! Tara doesn't need to know her drop-kick of a father!" He laughed.

"But I'm still her father, Penny-dear. I have every right to come to see my daughter and I'm going to. I've booked a seat on a flight, and I've flown into California. Flight 329 to London. I'll be in to see her in the morning,"

"You'll do no such thing. I don't want you anywhere near my daughter or near my house,"

"A bit late for that, now, isn't it Penny?" she punched the off button with as much force as she could, glowering.

Parker glanced up from his place at the wheel. "Everything alright, M'lady?"

"Turn around Parker, we're not going to Tracy Island anymore," Parker opened his mouth as if to question, but changed his mind at Penelope's dark look.

"Yes, M'lady,"

* * *

"I'm going to find the flight timetable. Virgil, you keep an eye out for Lady P; Gordon and Alan, sit over there in the corner, and don't move!" Scott pointed to his left at a small waiting room, and Gordon frowned. 

"We're not 10 anymore Scott. We CAN be responsible,"

Virgil snorted, having to turn away from his brothers to suppress his laughter.

"Cram it, Piano man..." Scott didn't look impressed.

"Go. Sit. _Now_." Alan muttered mockingly under his breath, trudging off to the waiting room with Gordon in tow.

As soon as they'd taken a seat, Alan scanned the area, looking for something to do.

Gordon on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

Alan's eyes fell on the airport lockers, where a young, blonde girl was withdrawing a pink sports bag from one of the centre compartments.

Her hair was organised into ringlets, hanging just below her shoulders, and she was wearing baggy jeans, and a long black, form fitting tee.

"Tars!" She turned around, and Alan's jaw dropped.

The girl's face broke into a grin, showing her perfect white teeth beneath her glossed pink lips, and she hugged an obvious friend of hers, who was still adorned in a short sea blue pleated skirt, and a matching blue double breasted vest-like shirt, with a white blouse.

"Hey Lily!"

The two got into a quiet conversation, and Alan elbowed Gordon, who opened one eye angrily.

"What?" he sniped.

"Look! Can you see who it is?"

Gordon sat up and squinted in the direction Alan was pointing.

"Uhh..."

"It's Tara, Gordon!" Gordon raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't she meant to be working?"

"That's what she said," he grinned deviously, "Let's go find out," Alan shot up, and snuck by the lockers, hiding from both Scott and Tara.

Gordon sighed and followed his brother.

From their position, the boys could just eavesdrop on Tara and Lily's conversation.

"... So have you just come back from somewhere?"

"Yeah. Paris," Lily replied, curling a strand of her auburn hair around her finger. Tara nodded.

"Nice?" Lily laughed.

"Not bad. There were a few assholes on the flight though..." Tara smiled.

"Yeah. You get those. Mostly they're the ones you wait for them to sleep, then draw all over them with the magic markers in the kids pack," Lily giggled.

"So where you headed?"

"London... Flight 329..."

"Cool! Well have fun. I'm just going to go home, and soak in a warm bath. My feet are about to fall off," Tara waggled her finger at the girl.

"Can't have that. Feet are an important part of an Airline hostess," Lily laughed again.

"Tars!" The blonde turned around, finding another girl dressed in the sea blue uniform racing towards her.

"They're boarding our flight! Get changed!" The boys heard a zip undo, probably from the gym bag and Tara nodded.

"Thanks, Jules. Tell Charli I'll be there soon," Lily smiled.

"I'll see you, Tars,"

"See you, Lily," Tara slipped into the ladies room and the brothers looked at each other.

"Wonder why she's gotta get changed," Gordon bit his lip.

Alan shrugged, his hand digging around in his pocket.

"Aha!" He grinned, withdrawing his wallet. Gordon's eyes widened.

"You're not thinking of going on the flight are you?" Alan shrugged.

"Someone's gotta keep an eye on her," Gordon laughed.

"Nice reasoning," The two walked over to the flight desk, and rang the bell - fortunately there was no line.

"Yes?"

"Uhh... Hi. I'd like 2 tickets on the next flight to London...?" the desk clerk nodded, pursing her lips together.

"Oh! You're lucky! We've got a few tickets left on the flight that leaves in 20 minutes... the 329... they're not together though... does that matter?" Gordon shook his head.

Alan handed over his credit card, and she scanned it.

"Right... We'll just need some ID," the boys handed their licences over, and the clerk smiled.

"Right then... Have a good flight!" she printed the tickets, and handed them over to the two boys, who grinned, and ran off to the boarding gate.

Meanwhile, Tara emerged from the bathroom, tugging down her sea blue skirt, which was unbelievably short for a uniform, and rubbing her lips together to spread the lipstick.

"God I hope Charli doesn't kill me," her white heels clicked on the tiled floor of the airport as she raced through the staff gates, and up the ladder onto the aircraft. (_**A/N** Heads up - the plane is a bit like a fireflash... but not a fireflash...)_

"Tara!" A woman in her early-30s chided the girl as she headed into the attendants compartment.

"Sorry Charli! Traffic..." The woman sighed, and handed Tara a life jacket.

"You're on life duty," she checked her watch, "We're due to head off in 10 minutes; you and Jules can go out and give the demonstration. Jules - you keep time, I don't trust Tara..." Tara shot the woman a look before she peered through the curtain.

"Full flight?" Jules nodded.

"Well, Ladies, we've got Cap'n Dan aga--," Christa, another of the flight attendants entered the cabin, beginning her declaration before breaking into a round of raucous laughter at Tara's face.

"What?" Tara's face was vacant, "What did I miss?"

"Fix your make-up, love," Charli pressed a wipe against the girl's pouting lips, "You look like a 2-bit tart,"

"Do not," the girl stuck out her bottom lip like a petulant child but redid her face regardless.

* * *

"Right..." Alan took his seat up the back of the class, and Gordon examined the seat numbers. 

"Hmm... I'm across the isle from you. How fu..." he trailed off, peering through the class curtain, and the hostess compartment.

"Ha! They look so cramped back there," He looked over at his brother, who was standing, looking around the plane.

"Tara'll be here, Alan. Sit down and stop looking like a weirdo."

* * *

"So she's not coming anymore, Father," 

"That's right, Scott. You boys come home. It's just stupid you staying there," Scott closed his phone, beckoning Virgil towards him.

"Lady Penelope isn't coming anymore. Get Gordon and Alan, we're going," Virgil nodded, turning towards the waiting room, where he could have sworn he'd last seen them.

Realisation dawned on the middle Tracy and Virgil groaned, turning back to Scott.

"Um... Scott...?" Scott was taking deep breaths.

"I can see, Virgil. They've gone," Virgil leapt backwards, just in time to miss Scott swinging around and kick the trash can.

"Damn it! I told them to stay put!" Scott stormed off towards the clerk, and Virgil sighed.

"You two are so dead when Dad gets his hands on you," he muttered to no-one in particular.

And yet, he was sure his younger brothers had heard him. Or, in the very least, knew it themselves.

* * *

When the doors of the plane closed, Jules elbowed Tara, and the two headed up to the front of the seating compartment and smiled. 

"Hello everyone, and welcome to British Airways!" she scanned the area, continuing on with her speech, nervously spying every eye on her.

"Your exits are here..." she pointed both hands in the direction of the back of the plane, "Here..." On either side of her, "And here..." Behind her.

"In case of emergency, you have a personal flotation device under your seat, which you put on by placing over your head," she did so, "And buckling these straps here, tightening them to a comfortable pressure... you then pull these tabs to inflate them, and exit the plane through the exits I've just shown..." Tara trailed off, her eyes falling on two familiar faces up the back of the compartment.

_Oh God. What are they doing here?!_ Jules elbowed her, and Tara snapped out of it.

"The plane is now about to go into taxi, and we ask that you fasten your seatbelts, and that every time this light," She pointed above her, "Flashes, that you do so. Please do not stand whilst the plane is taxiing, and do not turn on any personal electronic devices until this sign lights up..." Jules pointed above her head.

_Oh great. Old man in row 3 just fell asleep. The least he could do would be pretend to be interested. Jerk._

"Thankyou for listening, and we hope you enjoy your flight..." Tara and Jules giggled, heading down the back into the attendants carriage.

She walked straight past the Tracy boys, and Alan couldn't help but stare of the length of the skirt.

"Gordo, did you see how short her skirt is? No uniform should be that tiny!" Gordon didn't reply, leaning close to the curtain, trying to listen into the girls' conversation.

Inside, Tara decided she'd wait until they were in the air to hit Alan and Gordon upside the head and find out what they were there for.

_I'm going to kill them._

* * *

As soon as the plane was settled at a good altitude, and Jules gave the passengers permission to use the bar and smoke, Tara headed out to find Alan and Gordon. 

The two were sitting by a huge window on the plane.

Just as she was about to approach them, the air hostess bell rang and Charli pointed at the blonde, who glared, and headed over to the owner of the buzz. She put a smile on her face, and turned to the middle aged man.

"How can I help you?"

He eyed her up and down, smiling.

_Here it comes._

"How about the mile high club, sweetheart?" Tara just smiled sweetly.

_Jackass._

"Is that all?" The man nodded, smirking.

"I'm sorry, but I'm working. Oh! And I'm not a whore!" Tara walked off, shaking her head at Jules.

Jules laughed, and beckoned her over.

"Mile high?" Tara nodded, rolling her eyes.

"Aah well. You'll get those. Charli wants you to serve the drinks, then she says you can go on your break," Tara pouted, taking the trolley.

"I don't know _why_ I ever went for this job..." Jules laughed, and playfully pushed Tara out.

Her mind working, Tara realised she could use this situation to her advantage, and smiled handing drinks to each passenger off the cart.

She deliberately avoided Alan and Gordon until last.

"Here you go, Sirs,"

_I just spiked your coke with pepper, Gordon. Take that._

"Thanks, Ra-ra," Tara turned, and hit Gordon upside the head.

"Oi! You're working!" Tara grinned and pushed the trolley away.

"On my break," She took a seat near the boys, "What exactly are you two doing here?"

Gordon pointed at Alan, sculling his coke. The second youngest Tracy stopped, pulling back as if something tasted funny in his coke.

Tara smirked.

Alan pulled at his collar, turning red whilst trying to come up with a decent excuse.

"We felt like it...?" he smiled weakly, kicking Gordon under the table.

Gordon winced, and shot Alan a glare.

"Oh really? So it's not a case of you don't trust me?" Tara raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair.

Gordon just replied by pointing at Alan.

Finally, the youngest Tracy sighed in defeat and looked up at Tara, pulling a puppy face.

"Fine! I saw you at the airport, and cuz we hadn't seen you since your graduation day, Gordon and I decided to follow you... y'know. Just in case..." Tara laughed.

"Uncle Jeff's gonna kill you two," Gordon gulped.

_Because I can't be bothered. Oh I'm so lazy these days._

"Oh yeah? What about your mother? Does she even know what you do?" Tara poked her tongue out.

"No, and you're not going to tell her..." Alan laughed, and Tara just turned, raising an eyebrow.

Alan raised his hands in defence.

"Come on! Don't you deny it! You liked seeing us here!" Tara broke into a grin.

"Yeah... I suppose..."

"So how's college?" Tara leaned back in her chair.

"Boring, really..." Alan smiled, nodding.

Tara heard a ding, and groaned, standing up, and tugging at her skirt.

"I'd better answer that... I'll talk to you guys later..." She cast a sidewards glance at Gordon, "Behave..."

It turned out the same guy that had dinged Tara the first time had dinged her again, saying he'd dropped his pencil out of his reach.

_This was not an accident. I can feel it._

Tara rolled her eyes, and bent down, her fingers closing around the writing implement, when she snapped upright, feeling someone pinch her backside.

Tara spun around, the man smirking immensely.

_I hate you._

She placed his pencil on the table, and walked back into the compartment, pulling the curtain closed behind her.

Jules gave her a puzzled look, and Tara smiled faintly.

"One..." Jules laughed.

"Right now you're in the lead. Christa's avoiding it today," Tara giggled.

"She would. She hosted a businessman personal flight," The girls shivered at the thought. Torturous.

Charli walked in from the other side of the compartment, and leaned against the bench.

"The pilot's coming down. Pull down your skirts, girls," The three sniggered a little, before a light flashed, Tara groaning.

"If it's the same guy, you can do it Jules," Jules' eyes widened.

"Ta-ra!" She whined, and Charli laughed.

"Tara - you're on ding duty. I'm going down to 2nd class now, so tell the people in the bar now they have 20 minutes left and then they have to head back to their seats,"

"FAB," the others gave the blonde a weird look and Tara flushed pink, "I mean, uh. Got it," and she raced back to the bar area.

* * *

Alan couldn't help but find himself staring at the 18 (almost nineteen) year old flight attendant, who seemed to have a smile plastered on her face. 

Gordon rolled his eyes, and elbowed his brother.

"Al, stop staring or Tara's gonna feel self conscious and kill you," Alan blinked, and turned, snapping out of his day-dream.

The attendants curtain opened again, this time a fairly young man emerging, wearing a blue uniform, and hat with a silver eagle on top.

The blonde daughter of Penelope Creighton Ward decided at that moment she'd test her telepathic powers.

_Don't talk to me._

"Tara! Love!"

_Damn it._

"Hi Daniel..."

_Stop talking to me._

"Please, Luv! Call me Dan! How's life?"

Personally, Tara wanted nothing more than to punch this man in the face and tell him that she wasn't interested in him in the slightest, so he should go and fly the damn plane to earn money for his hooker-wife.

Unfortunately, she needed the job, so instead she graced him with a response.

"Oh... fine... you?"

... she never said it was much of a response. It didn't have to be.

_Choke on an airline peanut._

"Fine as always! You know, Tara, you never answered my question..."

_Choke-y, Choke-y, Choke-y _

Tara wanted to pout. Evidently she had no telepathic powers. Bugger.

"Which one would that be?"

"Come on Tara! Go out with me!" She poured a glass of water for a woman she was serving and turned around.

_I want to hit you with this water jug. The only problem is, once I pop, I can't stop._

"Dan..."

"Just say yes, and I won't ask again..." _Oh like hell he won't. One date will turn into two. Two into three. Three into "Tara Creighton-Ward found dead in her bathtub after she took arsenic pills, shot and drowned herself all to avoid fourth date with wanky co-worker"_.

"Dan... I can't..."

She continued working, serving people who dinged her for drinks.

Daniel continued pestering her, Tara getting more and more fed up as time passed.

She got around to Alan and Gordon and bent down, Daniel standing behind her, watching the short skirt ride up slightly. Tara wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what he was doing behind her.

_Pervert._

"Everything OK?" Alan muttered in her ear, and Tara gave him a pleading look, refilling Gordon's glass pepper included.

Tara straightened up, pushing the trolley back behind the bar, and strapping it down.

Daniel stood, watching her go and then smiled when she returned.

"Come on, Tara! Why won't you go out with me?"

"I... I've... uhh..." Gordon kicked Alan, and raised his eyebrows, nudging his head at Tara's back.

"Tara!" Tara felt a strong hand around her waist, and she sighed gratefully.

_Whee._

"Excuse me, we were having a conversation. Who are you?" Daniel wasn't amused.

Tara bit her lip, and Alan smiled, replying simply:

"I'm Alan Tracy... Tara's Boyfriend..."

Tara could have sworn her heart stopped. The words fell so easily from his lips, and a small, small part of Tara (the one she usually denied having, and ignored what it said) told her she liked it.

_I am going to get you so drunk, brain. Kill off a few cells and that'll learn you to tell me what I like._

Daniel nodded, excusing himself, and striding back to the cockpit, his head down to hide his embarrassment.

_Hah! Take that Wanky!_

Alan withdrew his hand, and Tara turned around, smirking.

"Thanks honey," she cooed, tapping Alan's nose, "That almost makes up for the fact you haven't proposed yet," Alan sweat-dropped.

"What?" Tara laughed.

"Relax, Alan. It was a joke," she shook her head, slipping away from him, "Lighten up, kay?"

Gordon waited until his brother had taken his seat again, and cracked up laughing.

"You should have seen your face..." Alan scowled.

"Shut up. And where the hell is my ice?"

Gordon regained his composure, and shrugged, an evil glint dancing in his eyes.

"Melted...?"

* * *

Alan leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes, and trying to get a little sleep, when out of nowhere, something struck his forehead. 

He opened an eye, and spied Gordon aiming the packets from his seat across the aisle.

"What was that for?" Alan chucked it back gruffly, and Gordon smirked.

"You made me come and now I'm bored. So you have to deal with it and entertain me," Alan sluggishly caught the new packet of peanuts.

Gordon pouted and chucked another packet, this one striking Alan's nose.

"Oi!"

"Now boys..." Tara put her hands on her hips, smiling, "Is that really the most mature thing to be doing?"

"He started it!" Alan poked his tongue out at Gordon, who gaped, mock sniffling.

"Miss. Air hostess Tawa! He's being mean buttface!" Tara laughed and slipped back into the compartment, where Jules was waiting boredly.

"Christa's winning, 10 to 9," Tara laughed.

"You wait till dinner duty," She waggled her finger, sliding up onto the bench.

"Gah. Your nonchalance disturbs me sometimes, Tara," the blonde winked.

"Me too, Jules. Me too,"

* * *

"THEY DID WHAT?" Scott sighed, raking his fingers through his dark hair. 

"They snuck off at the airport. From what I've heard, they used their credit cards to buy tickets to London,"

"WHAT IN THE HELL FOR?" Jeff bellowed, his face going as red as Thunderbird 3.

"Who knows, Father? They just felt like it," Virgil rubbed his temples.

"We just thought we'd fill you in anyway. We're going to go and get them now,"

Jeff's eye was twitching dangerously, and he got up, walking upstairs to his bedroom, and picked up a pillow, shoving his face into it and shouted curses and screams into it for the next 20 minutes.

Scott and Virgil just retreated for their own safety.

"Dad's gonna kill them," Virgil laughed.

"Better them than us,"

* * *

"Tara... Jules... taxi time..." Charli pushed the two girls out and they walked up to the front of the compartment. 

"Alright everyone! Please fasten your seatbelts, we've now arrived in London, the time is 9 p.m., and the temperature is 9 degrees Celsius. Thank you for flying British airways and we hope you had an enjoyable flight!" Tara watched the passengers buckle up, and with a glance at Jules, the two retreated back, Tara being stopped by the same middle aged man who'd been hitting on her the entire flight.

_Oh shit._

"Now you've finished work, fancy meeting me at my hotel?"

_No. No I don't. Fancy a castration? It's a simple procedure. My foot, your groin, your pain, and my happy. Very simple._

"No thanks..." She slipped his grasp on her leg and felt his hand pat her rear.

She winced, slipping into the Air Hostess' area and strapping herself in.

"Oi Christa! How many?"

"15! You?"

"17!" Christa groaned, and took out her wallet, handing Tara £10.

"There! Add it to your psychiatrist fund!" Tara broke into a grin and the plane touched down on the London airport.

* * *

Once the Alan and Gordon had departed from the plane, they waited by the gate for Tara to leave. 

About 15 minutes after they'd emerged from the gate, she did, smiling, still wearing her uniform.

"So what exactly _are_ you boys going to do now? It's a tad late to catch another flight, so where are you going to stay?"

Alan looked at Gordon, who shrugged.

"Motel, probably..." Tara frowned.

"Well, if you're going stay in London, you might as well sleep at my apartment. One of my roommates is in Shanghai, and the other one's in Tahiti. I'm sure Frances and Stephanie won't mind if you stay the night," the boys smiled and nodded.

"Fabulous. You two just wait here, and I'll get changed," Tara picked up her gym bag from the baggage carousel, and headed off to the women's bathroom, giving Alan one last smile before she closed the door.

The two took a seat by the change rooms and Gordon yawned.

"I'm glad we won't have to check into a motel. I just think I want to sleep," Alan smiled and leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest.

About 15 minutes later, Tara tapped the boys on their shoulders, grinning.

"Ready to go?" Alan stood up, nodding and nudging Gordon, who it seemed had fallen into a light sleep.

Tara giggled, slinging her bag over her shoulder and fishing her car keys out.

Alan's eyes widened.

"You can drive? Since when can you drive?!"

"Since I got my licence!" Tara retorted, swiping her I.D. Card through the doors, and pushing it open.

"The pilots and flight attendants get their own security parking lot..." She explained, walking over to a light pink porche boxter, and unlocked it.

Alan and Gordon just stared, Gordon letting out a sigh.

"Should have known..."

"Are you two going to stare, or get into the car?"

"Shotgun!" Alan raced over, sliding into the passenger side, grinning.

Gordon poked his tongue out, and hopped into the back seat.

* * *

Scott raced into the airport, out of breath, and headed straight up to the flight desk. 

"Excuse me... when does flight 329 come in from London?" The clerk gave him a sceptical look.

"It came in 20 minutes ago..." Scott groaned, turning to Virgil.

"Dad's gonna kill us..."

* * *

"You'll have to forgive us, but I'm not sure just how tidy it is..." Tara unlocked the front door of her apartment, and peeked inside. 

The lights were on, and the house was fairly clean.

"Tara? Izzat you?" Tara dumped her bag on the floor, and closed the door behind Alan and Gordon.

"Hey Frances! I thought you were in Shanghai!"

"Tomorrow," A small girl with olive skin and ebony hair peeked around the corner of the hall arch.

"Why Tara!" she scalded, catching sight of Alan and Gordon, "You should have told me you were bringing people home! I would have gotten dressed up for it!" she considered this statement, "or not,"

Tara laughed.

"These two? They were a tad unexpected..." the brothers were in awe of the spacious flat, and were just looking around.

"They staying?"

"Yeah... at least for the night. I didn't think you were gonna be home..." Frances smiled slyly.

_Here comes the obligatory smutty comment in 3... 2... 1..._

"Why Tara! I'm shocked! Little miss Angelic wanted the place empty so she could be alone with two handsome guys! I don't believe it! Steph and I are finally rubbing off on you!"

Alan raised his eyebrows.

"Angelic?" Tara gave him a shut up glare, and Frances laughed.

"Hah! I knew you weren't the angel you pretend to be!" Tara poked her tongue out, and dropped her keys into the tray.

_Am too._

"The shower's free, Tars if you want to use it..." Tara ran into the tiled room, her hands outstretched.

"California to London, I need a shower!" The boys heard two doors closed, and Gordon looked suitably impressed.

"Nice place for 3 college students..." Alan took a seat on the sofa.

"We are so dead when we get back..." Gordon raised his eyebrows.

"We Lil' Bro? _You_ are so dead. I was just a neutral observer!" Alan glared at Gordon.

"Oh come on... I am just as screwed as you... observer or not..."

* * *

"So how was the flight?" Tara was sitting on her bed in her pyjamas, Frances seated next to her. 

"I hurt," Tara whined, "17 men are perverts," Frances whistled.

"Christa pay you the 10 quid?" the blonde nodded.

"Yeah..."

"So... who exactly are these boys you brought home?"

"Alan and Gordon?"

"If you say so..." Tara rolled her eyes.

"Alan and Gordon Tracy... they're brothers... Friends of the family..." Frances snorted.

"Tara... your mother is _LADY_ PENELOPE CREIGHTON-WARD! Everyone is a sodding friend of the family!"

Tara smiled.

"I suppose. Anyway, they just caught my flight... for no apparent reason, except they hadn't seen me in over a year and a half, so they decided to come and see me,"

"Wow. nice friends... must be loaded... … single?" Tara giggled.

A knock at the door stopped their conversation.

"Hey Tara... Frances..." Alan rubbed the back of his neck.

"Let me guess... you're tired, and you want to know where you're sleeping?" Alan grinned, nodding.

Tara smiled.

"How fussed are you to stay in the same room?" Alan raised an eyebrow.

"Stay in the same room as Gordon? No way!" Frances chuckled.

"Well... Tars... I suppose one of them can stay in Steph's room... she's staying in Tahiti for a week... and one can stay in here..." Alan's eyes widened.

"Where exactly in here?"

Frances smiled slyly, and interrupted before Tara could open her mouth.

"Inside, on top of, or next to our de--" Tara shoved the girl off her bed, and Frances laughed, slipping past Alan in the doorway.

"Have a fun night..." She winked, and closed the door to her bedroom, and flicked off the light.

Tara shook her head.

"Don't mind Frances. she's just a dirty minded college student..."

"So..."

"You and Gordon decide. One of you can stay in Steph's bed, and the other one can stay in here. Just let me know before you decide... In case I decide I don't want to share my bed or something,"

_Brain, if you dare to think anything, I swear I'm going to hit you _so hard _with my biology text that you won't have me thinking for weeks._

_Yeah. You heard me. Don't even think what I'm sure you're thinking._

Alan nodded slowly and turned, heading out into the lounge room.

Gordon looked up from the copy of Vogue on the table.

"You're staying in Stephanie's room..." Alan grinned, leaving before Gordon could even consider responding.

Tara looked up from her book and raised an eyebrow.

"I take it you're my bed-buddy for the night then?"

_... I cannot believe I just said "bed-buddy"._

Alan laughed.

"So it would seem," he looked around, "So where exactly am I sleeping?"

Tara shook her head, closing the book.

"Alan, I have a very large bed... use your brain..."

Alan gave her a look and walked over to the opposite side of the bed, pulling the quilt back.

Tara stopped him just before he got in.

"You are not sleeping in here in muddy jeans," She put her hands on her hips and frowned at him.

"Then what do you suggest I sleep in?"

"Anything but those jeans..." Alan frowned, and turned around, unbuckling his belt.

He took it off and just before he was about to slip out of his jeans into his boxers, Alan stopped and turned around.

"Tara... could you not look?" he whined and Tara rolled her eyes, picking up her book again.

This wasn't exactly good enough for Alan, so he whined again.

"Ta-ra... could you close your eyes?" she groaned, and closed the book, closing her eyes.

"I don't trust you..." Alan crossed his arms over his chest, and pouted.

"Could you leave the room while I change?" Tara opened her eyes, and glared.

"Alan Shepard Tracy! This is my apartment, and my room! I am staying right here, thank you very much! If I promise I won't look will you just get bloody well changed?" He nodded, and Tara closed her eyes, turning away, "Besides," she added, "I have no interest in seeing you in your underwear,"

_Shut your mouth, brain. Shut it._

Finally satisfied, Alan turned around and kicked his jeans off, leaping into the bed in his boxers and white T-shirt.

Tara smirked.

"Can I look yet?" Alan gave her a playful punch in the shoulder, the blonde pouting.

"Ooow!" she mocked pain, "No hitting or you're sleeping on the floor, Mr. Tracy..." Alan lay back, looking up at the ceiling.

"You have a nice place here, Tara..."

"Thanks Alan... we try..." She lay back onto her pillows, and turned over, looking at the messy haired blonde.

"Can I turn off the light now?" Alan smiled and she flicked the lamp off, engulfing the room in darkness.

After a few minutes, Alan rolled over, facing Tara.

"Tara?"

"Mmm?"

"Night Tari,"

"G'night Alan,"

_Shut up brain. Don't say a word._

* * *

_**A/N** Next chapter._

_And sorry about the italic digressions, but I couldn't help but throw in some of Tara's sharp wit. That funny, funny girl and her strange and entertaining thoughts..._

_... okay. It's 2:49 a.m. and I'm high on 21 Jump Street. Cut me some slack?_

_Tara's daddy next chapter..._

_... see you in 6 months._

_I'm kidding._

_Seriously._

_... or am I...?_

_The Flame Faerie_


	29. Revelations

_**a/n **Guess what guys? It's my birthday! I'm now officially LEGAL and OLD ENOUGH TO DRIVE! HAH!_

_So as a birthday present, here's it is. _

_The big one…_

* * *

**Chapter 29** - Revelations

* * *

The next morning, Tara awoke, finding strong arms wrapped around her waist. 

She turned around, coming face to face with a peacefully sleeping Alan.

She smiled and tugged at his hands, only to find for someone silently asleep, he held her in a fast grip.

Not only was she stuck in this fun scenario, but that annoying, _evil_ part of her brain was awake.

'_sha-la-la-la-la-la... You swoon, you sigh, why deny it uh-o-oh,'_

_Damn brain._

She turned back over, laying her head back on her pillow and tried to fall asleep again, only to find Alan nuzzling into her back.

She furrowed her brow, puzzled.

'_you keep on denyin' who you are and how you're feelin'. Baby, we're not buyin, hun we saw you hit the ceiling...__'_

'_If I get out of this, dignity in tact, I'm never watching Hercules again,'_ she scowled.

She looked around, spying things she could hit him with, or wake him up with, but found Alan's grip on her stopped her from moving too far over, stopping her from reaching most of her bedside implements... Not that she was really complaining... It was comfortable in Alan's arms...

Warm and safe-like...

But with her roommates...

Tara didn't want to think about how they'd take this.

With a groan, Tara collapsed onto the pillow and just decided to try to sleep.

'_Face it like a grown-up, when you gonna own up that you've go—'_

'_SHA-LA-LA-LA-LA NOT LISTENING YOU STUPID PILE OF GREY MATTER,'_

* * *

Alan was in the middle of a brightly lit dance floor, dressed up in a black tuxedo, looking around the vast space. 

_Above him hung a massive chandelier, which illuminated the massive golden marbled staircase._

_At the top, dressed in a creamy white, strapless gown, her golden hair placed gently at her shoulders and a diamond chain around her neck - was Tara._

_He gaped in awe and she smiled, glass heels clicking on the stairs as she descended them, one by one._

_In a gentleman like fashion, Alan held his hand out and Tara took it, her hands covered by long white gloves, up to her elbow._

_Music started playing and the two began to waltz, Alan holding Tara firmly by her waist._

_Her grey eyes sparkled, gazing fondly into his blue ones and he grinned, the couple sweeping around the dance floor._

_The waltz died out, other couples joining the two on the floor and the orchestra began to play a slower song, Alan pulling Tara in closer, her laying her head against his shoulder and he nuzzled her hair, which was held loosely and elegantly by a silvery clip._

"_Alan..." she whispered his name sweetly and he smiled, squeezing her hand in his._

"_Tara..." She looked up and their faces crept closer and closer until..._

"Alan?" Alan opened his eyes sleepily and slowly realised the situation.

"Tara?"

"Yeah... Glad you're awake... can you let go of me now?" Alan's hands sprung free and she smiled, sitting up.

"Thanks..." She raised an eyebrow, "What where you dreaming about?" Alan's eyes widened.

"Uhh... why?"

She grinned, looking down on him.

"Because... you said my name..." she spoke teasingly. Alan blanched.

'_Oh shit...'_

"Umm... I can't exactly remember..." Tara grinned again.

"Sure Alan... I'm gonna go get breakfast... You can stay in bed if you want..." She got up and Alan watched her leave, Tara tugging down her short pink boxer shorts and straightening her lighter pink singlet top.

Alan rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

"That was... gaaah..." he hid his face in his hands, cheeks burning bright red.

* * *

Tara wasn't the first one to get up, it appeared. 

Frances was seated at the breakfast bar, sipping a cup of coffee, her eyebrows raised as Tara trudged out.

"Well?" Tara blinked, stopping in her tracks.

"Well what?"

Frances smirked.

"I looked in on you two this morning... you look awfully cuddly..." Tara shook her head, smiling and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Nothing happened, Frances..." Frances pouted.

"Disappointed?" Tara laughed.

"Don't you have to get ready to go to Shanghai?"

"Good morning Ladies!" Tara turned around, Gordon smiling widely.

"Someone slept well in Steph's bed,"

Gordon cracked a smile.

"Mmm... coffee?" Tara held out the jug and Gordon poured himself a mug, smiling.

"Your friend has a comfortable bed..." he turned to Tara, "And how well did you sleep with my brother?"

Tara groaned.

"You two make it sound so... _dirty_..."

Frances raised her eyebrows again.

"Was it?"

Tara rolled her eyes and walked over to the pantry, pulling out the pop tarts.

"Want one Gordo?"

Gordon nodded and looked out the glass doors, which led to the patio.

"Good morning sleepyhead!" Frances grinned, Alan trudging out in his boxers.

Tara cleared her throat.

"For someone who was pretty touchy about changing out of your jeans last night when I was in the room, you're awfully open now..." Alan's eyes widened and her turned, bolting back into Tara's room and pulled on his jeans.

Tara chuckled and toasted the pop tarts.

"So what are you and Alan going to do today?" Frances asked, wrapping her hands around what was left of her coffee.

"I suppose get a ticket on a plane home..." Tara turned around.

"Well, I'm going to see mother. I have a few things I need to get from her. You two can come with me if you want; I'm sure she wouldn't mind taking you home," she considered this for a moment before adding, "or, at least, Parker wouldn't..."

Gordon shook his head.

"Lady P's gone to visit Father. That's why we were at the airport..."

Tara shrugged.

"Mmkay. Well, you can come with me to the Creighton-Ward manor and then I'll drop you at the airport," Frances raised her eyebrows again and Tara rolled her eyes.

"_Fine_. I get free travel and I'm on break now so I might as well come with. Could save you a couple quid,"

"The significant other of a hostess gets to travel free..." Frances pointed out and Gordon raised an eyebrow.

"As in..."

"Boyfriend, husband, fiancée..."

"But..."

"Tara can fake it," Frances looked at Tara, smirking, "Or not..."

The Asian girl ducked to avoid the tissue box pegged in her direction.

Alan came back out, dressed this time and Tara smiled.

"Pop tart?"

* * *

"I'll be back in a week, OK Tara?" 

"OK Frances..." Tara hugged her and Frances smirked, muttering something in her ear, that made Tara punch her arm.

"Have fun in Shanghai,"

"You just have fun," she leaned in, "I want details," laughing at the frown on Tara's face, Frances closed the door behind her and Tara turned around, looking at Alan and Gordon.

"I'm just going to have a shower and get dressed... I'll pack a small bag and then we'll head off to the Manor,"

The boys nodded and as soon as Tara was out of earshot, Gordon turned to his brother, grinning.

"Well?" Alan nursed his head in his hands.

"What did you do?!" Gordon laughed, punching Alan's arm.

"Nothing..." Gordon raised his eyebrows.

"Except..." he sighed, "I just woke up this morning with my arms around her..." Gordon grinned.

"Nice..." Alan glared at him and Gordon got up, turning on the radio in the kitchen.

…_Dear mother can you hear me whining… it's been three whole weeks since that I have your home..._

* * *

Tara lathered up her loofah, bopping along to the song on the shower radio. 

_Pay attention to the cracked streets and the broken homes. Some call it slums, some call it nice. I want to take you through a wasteland I like to call my home..._

_Welcome to Paradise…_

Tara grinned, not being able to help her urges of playing air guitar.

She waited until the song ended, before turning off the hot water and wrapping her white towel around her torso.

The lock clicked open and she emerged from the steamy room, grinning, droplets of water glistening on her shoulders.

"I'll be 15 minutes!" she called out to Gordon and Alan, who seemed pretty shocked to see Tara in a towel... JUST a towel...

"Dear Mother, can you hear me laughing?" She hummed, closing her bedroom door and opening her wardrobe.

"It's been six whole months since I have left your home..." She rummaged through her clothes, pulling out a tartan mini and slipped it on over her black underwear, smiling.

"It makes me wonder why I'm still here…" She pulled on a red boob tube and examined her appearance in the mirror, unclipping her hair so it fell limply by the sides of her face.

"For some strange reason, it's now feeling like my home..." She picked up her hairbrush and ran it through her hair, clipping it back up, a little more elegantly and grinned.

Running some gloss over her them, Tara smacked her lips together, then sat on her bed and pulled on some socks and her knee length black boots.

"And I'm never gonna go..." Slipping on her black leather jacket, Tara swung the damp towel over her shoulder and walked out of the room, hanging it back up in the bathroom.

She then retreated back into her room and took out her pink bag, folding a few items of clothing and packing them in.

Zipping it up, Tara walked outside, to hear the tail end of Gordon and Alan's conversation.

"Come on Alan! Why don't you just admit you've got a crush on... Tara!" Gordon exclaimed, his voice creeping a semitone higher.

Alan had his back turned to the archway, so he didn't see Tara leaning against the wall behind him.

_Whee._

_Screw you._

"Gordon! For the last time I don't--"

"No Alan... Tara's behind you..." Alan spun around, finding a highly amused teenager, smirking.

"Oh no, don't mind me. Keep going… Who's Alan crushing on?" Tara straightened up and swung her bag over her shoulder, grinning.

"Uhh...' Gordon laughed at Alan's discomfort and shook his head.

"Come on Tara... we should get going..." Tara rolled her eyes and picked up her car and house keys, opening the door.

"Whoever's last out close the door behind you - it locks automatically," she called over her shoulder and started down the stairs.

"Wait up!" Alan bolted out, followed by Gordon, who slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Penelope paced around the lounge room, rubbing her temples. 

Knowing him he wouldn't show up...

"_What am I worried about anyway? Tara's not even here and he doesn't know where she lives now..."_

There was a knock at the door and Penelope felt to stomach drop.

Parker entered the room, a puzzled look on his face.

"There's a Mr. Andrews here to see you, M'lady... should I show him in?"

Penelope never got the chance to reply, because the brown haired man pushed his way past Parker.

"Hello Penelope... long time, no see..." he smirked and Penelope clenched her fists.

"I told you on the phone... you're not seeing Tara... now get out..." He just laughed.

"Penelope... she's my daughter... I have every right to see her..." Penelope's knuckles turned white.

"You're not even on her birth certificate, Lionel... As far as Tara knows... she hasn't got a father..."

His sneer widened.

"Well then. That's something we're just going to have to change, eh Pen?"

* * *

Tara pulled up outside the Creighton-Ward manor and turned to the Tracy brothers. 

"I'm just gonna go in and grab a few things. I should only be 15 or so minutes - if that," She opened the door and got out, swinging her house keys around her index finger.

When Tara got to the door, she slid the key into the lock and turned, hearing the latch snap open.

She withdrew the first key and just as she was about to thrust the second into the door, the mahogany wood door swung open.

"Parker!" Tara was startled, to say the least, "I thought you'd gone to Tracy Island,"

"Hello, Miss. Tara..." Parker seemed to choose his words carefully at this point, "Why don't you go up to your room?" he paused, "It's lovely to see you again..." Tara raised an eyebrow, suspicious. Sure, sometimes Parker was a bit strange (it was all part of his lovable butler charm) but even this was a tad too much.

Although, she didn't question it. Best not to.

Tara walked up the stairs, but couldn't help hearing the raised voices in the lounge. She'd heard her mother holler and scream before (remember, she failed the first few years of finishing school _and_ had a penchant for trouble) but never with that force and definition.

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SEE HER!" Tara's brow furrowed. She'd definitely _never_ heard her mother this riled up before

"What the...?"

Tara knew she shouldn't. She _knew_ it wasn't dignified or polite to barge in during the middle of an argument between two people, but curiosity got the better of her.

Besides, unless she had a sister she'd _never_ heard of; or an aunt whom her mother had kept secret, the "her" who was being argued over was, beyond reasonable doubt, Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward.

_Oooh. Her ears were burning._

Slipping past Parker, Tara pushed open the double doors to the sitting room. Eyebrows raised as she set eyes on her mother and the mystery man she was arguing with.

"Tara!" Penelope nearly feinted. And then the man turned around.

Tara pulled a disgusted face.

"Are you stalking me or something? Get the hell out of my house you perv!" Penelope was more than confused at her daughter's reaction to ... _her father_.

"What are you talking about, Tara?"

"This wanker kept hassling me at work! I am not bloody going to sleep with you, so get the bloody hell out!" the Lady's eyes widened and she looked over at Lionel.

"You said what?"

He smiled. A cruel, evil smile.

"Tara, darling. Does you mother know what you do for a living?" He turned to Penelope, "she's a flight attendant, Pen. Wearing a very, very short skirt..."

Penelope frowned at her daughter.

"You what?"

Tara glared.

"He," she thrust her finger at the stranger, "Kept trying to make me join the 'Mile High Club'!"

"_What?_" Penelope looked like she was about to have a coronary.

"She," Lionel pointed accusingly at Tara, "...was getting pretty friendly with two young men up the back of the compartment!" Penelope turned to Tara.

"_What? Who?_" Tara just rolled her eyes and laughed.

"Gordon and Alan, Mum..." Penelope nodded and turned back to Andrews, before reconsidering and turning back to Tara.

"What were they doing there?" Tara shrugged.

"Felt like it," Penelope nodded, then facing Tara's father.

"You asked _my daughter _to join the mile high club? It's not good enough you knock me up, you want to do the same to my daughter?"

He laughed, a horrible sound that made Tara's stomach turn with disgust.

So the man wasn't a stranger after all. He was the one who'd supplied half her DNA.

He was her father.

The thought made Tara's head hurt. She'd never thought she had a father somewhere before. As stupid as it sounded, the girl had always presumed that her mother was like the virgin Mary and one day an Angel told her that she was pregnant and going to have a daughter (this delusion, the girl had to admit, was probably what got her asked not to return to Sunday school...

... well, that and the fact she glued the Sunday School teacher to her chair when she called Tara a stupid child and preached to the class that all single mothers were whores and going to hell.

Tara had to defend her mother's honour. Mrs. Gallifrey got what she deserved…

... bitch). The girl had never even entertained the idea that somewhere out there she had a father.

Tara blinked, bringing herself from her thoughts to see Penelope glare at... her _father_ (the word sounded so alien to the girl) before stalking to her daughter.

"Tara, darling. We need to talk" Penelope pulled her daughter from the room and Tara flipped the man off before she disappeared from his line of sight.

Penelope showed Tara a seat and sighed.

"Sit down, Tara... I think it's time I told you the truth..."

* * *

"She did say 15 minutes, right?" Alan looked at his watch. 

Gordon groaned.

"Look... If she's not back in 5 minutes, we'll go up... OK?"

* * *

"When I was 16, a friend of mine took me to a concert, like a mini-Woodstock and a small band, Roc, played there. Their music was awful, but the lead guitarist was a heart throb. I met up with him after the show and he asked me for a date, so I accepted. 

After a few dates, he started pressuring me, telling me if I really loved him, I'd sleep with him. I was sixteen, Tara. I was young and stupid. I believed him. After holding out until the relationship was at breaking point, I finally gave in.

I slept with him and then a few weeks later, I was late. I told my best friend and she got me a pregnancy test. Of course, it was positive. I was worried, holding out until the last minute to tell my parents, but my mother guessed. Daddy wouldn't talk to me, but mother seemed more understanding and took me to a doctor to find out about abortion.

I told my "boyfriend" about the baby and it was the last time I thought I'd ever see Lionel Andrews. He left me alone and pregnant. Mother and Father seemed insistent I had an abortion, but I just couldn't do it. As much as I hated the father, I didn't want to kill my baby. And so you were born, Tara; a healthy, beautiful baby girl.

Mother and Father raised you while I finished school and after I did, I got to be a mother. They moved to the country to retire and I decided that I never wanted you to know about the jerk who fathered you... which I suppose is why I let you spend time with the Tracy boys when you were little.

I thought Jeff would make a better father figure for you, while Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon and Alan loved the thought of a little sister they could teach all sorts of things to... not many things I approved of, but still... And I thought you turned out alright, Tara. I really did.

Now he wants to be part of your life, after seeing in the paper about you saving the lives of your friends at school and reading that you were dux of your year at the most prestigious girl's school in Europe...

If you want him in your life, I can respect that, but I must warn you, he is not to be trusted..."

* * *

"It's been 5 minutes, Gordon... should we go in?" 

"Give it 10 more minutes, Alan... then we'll go in..."

* * *

Tara walked determinedly back into the lounge, flashing the man a sweet, innocent smile. She held her arms wide, calling him to a hug. 

Penelope whimpered. It seemed her daughter had chosen to accept this man.

_But in Penelope's eyes, he was still not her father._

Lionel Andrews grinned and walked over to the girl, walking into her arms which enveloped him.

What he didn't see was the devious sneer that danced over Tara's full lips. But it was something Penelope caught in the mirror.

_Tara Belle was up to something_.

The girl considered her positioning, before aiming her right knee for the place where his legs met and slamming it home with all the strength she could muster.

Lionel stumbled backwards, looking up at the seemingly innocent blonde.

The next thing he felt was a sharp pain as Tara's right hook knocked him to the floor.

"While I'm flattered for the fact you've suddenly appeared in my life now, while I've grown up without you, or even any form of contact from you, I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request to become a part of my life. I've grown up just fine without a father, thanks. I don't need you to appear when it suits you and I certainly don't want your disgusting attitude. You left my mother nearly twenty years ago. Don't even think you could do something like that and not suffer the consequences. Be grateful that I'm so angry I'm conflicted of just what to do to you, so I'll just let you walk out with your limbs and body in tact. No. You're not my father. You may have donated a part of yourself to sire me, but you are _not_ by any means the man I would _call_ my father," Tara's face was passive, but her voice was dangerously low. She pushed her sleeves up to her elbows, resting a hand on her right hip.

"So you know what you're going to do now? You're going to get up and stop bleeding on my family's floor and you're going to leave. You're not going to turn around, you're just going to go. And I never want to see you again, Mr. Andrews. You are not my father and I owe you no allegiance. And if I hear that you've been bothering my mother, _sir_, I assure you that you will be dealt with swiftly," Tara dragged him to his feet by his collar, her cerulean eyes flashing as she met his, mere inches away, "And don't think to presume I'm bluffing. You mean nothing to me, so what would I gain from lying to you?" she shoved him backwards.

"Get out,"

And as Lionel Andrews stumbled towards the door, Tara turned, shaking, to her mother.

And with tears rolling down her cheeks, Penelope took her daughter into her arms and just held her.

* * *

When a man tripped through the doorway, nursing a broken nose as he ran from the house, Alan and Gordon both decided it would be most prudent for them to go inside and ensure that young Tara was alright. 

Alan threw open the door, racing inside, only to be startled by Parker.

"Ello Young Master Tracy. What brings you 'ere?"

"Parker!" Gordon's voice was clearly stunned, "What are you doing here?"

"Our travel plans were changed due to an unexpected visitor," the butler explained, "But Young Miss. Tara dealt with 'im,"

"Is she alright?" Alan asked, the concern in his voice evident.

"A little shaken, but she'll be fine," Penelope's articulate voice came from the doorway, "The adrenalin just needs to stop surging through her veins,"

Tara smiled weakly.

"It's not every day you tell some prat that he's not your father,"

"Or break 'is nose," Parker added proudly. Penelope tried to hold in her laughter, but failed, letting out a dainty chuckle.

"Or break his nose," she agreed.

"You broke some guy's nose?"

"You met your father?" Tara shook her head.

"He's not my father, Alan. He may have donated his genetics to create me, but as far as I'm concerned, I have two fathers," she glanced at the butler, "Parker," the man's proud smile widened, "and Uncle Jeff. The two of them have done more for me than that bloody bastard,"

Penelope hugged her daughter again.

"And I'm glad that's how you feel, Tara. It's what I'd always hoped for,"

A moment of comfortable silence passed before Tara glanced at the clock.

"Bollocks," she muttered, "Guys, we'd best get going if you want to get home at a reasonable time,"

"If you're headed back to Tracy Island, I might as well tag along. I have a few things I needed to drop off and it's always a treat to go to the island,"

"You alright to get there?"

"Yes. Fab 1 may be in need of maintenance, but the cab service works just fine," Tara couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, we'll meet you at the airport. I've got my car," she paused, before adding, "and can drive safely," Penelope and Parker laughed.

"I'll take your word on that," Tara winked at her mother before turning to the Tracy Boys.

"Ready to go?"

"Home. Certain Death. Can't wait," Gordon deadpanned and the blonde girl laughed.

"Come on Captain Emo," she hugged her mother and Parker one last time before heading to the door.

"Tara?" she turned at her mother's call.

"Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you, Tara," the girl grinned.

"So am I," she considered what she'd just said, "I mean, of you. I'm proud of you,"

"Oh?" Penelope was amused.

"You survived everything. You raised me (and didn't do too shabby a job if I do say so myself) mostly alone. You put up with all my crap and you put up with that bastard," she jabbed her thumb to the door, "Not to mention, you have unbelievable self control. If that guy had done to me what he did to you, _he would totally have a hit on him right now_,"

Penelope laughed, shooing her daughter from the house.

"Thankyou Tara,"

"For what?"

"For being you," the Creighton-Ward women shared smiles before Tara dashed down the stairs and into her car.

"Ready to roll?"

"Rockin'," Alan grinned and Tara rolled her eyes, keying the ignition and taking off the parking break, starting down the driveway and pulling away from the Creighton-Ward Manor.

* * *

_**A/N** Well there you go! And just so you know, I have nothing against flight attendants; I just took Penelope's reaction from the same one my mother gave when I told her I wanted to be one... I was 8 at the time..._

_Young Flame-Faerie: Mummy, I wanna be a flight attendant_

_Mum: No you don't._

_So there goes Tara's father. I hope you guys who were hanging on for this moment are happy with the situation and even better will stick around for the final big question of Kryptonite:_

**Will Tara and Alan get together?**

_Only time will tell._

_Until next time,_

_The Flame Faerie_


	30. Grounded

**

* * *

****Chapter 30** – Grounded

* * *

"Now Jeff... calm down... I'm on my way for real this time, and I'm bring Tara and your sons..." Jeff Tracy had gone as red as a beetroot. 

"I AM GOING TO WRING THEIR NECKS!"

"Jeff!" Penelope chided, wagging her finger over the videophone, "Your sons are fine! And from what I hear, they saved Tara a bit of trouble on their flight over!"

Jeff's face had faded to a pink, and his eye began twitching.

"It's not like you had a rescue while they were gone... So there's no harm done... You can send Scott and Virgil to pick us up at the airport..."

"Alright Penny..." Penelope grinned.

"Thank you, Jeff... Ta-ta..." Penelope hung up and turned to the seats where Alan, Gordon and Tara were waiting.

"He's mad enough at you boys, but I think I've managed to do a little damage control..." Gordon let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, Lady P... we owe you one..." Penelope smiled faintly.

"Just stop setting out fake rats whenever I come to stay..." Gordon laughed and nodded.

"Flight 317, first call... Now boarding Flight 317... London to California" Tara fished out her I.D., and took Alan by the arm, the two walking up to the gates. Tara scanned her Card, and the guard let the two through, Tara smiling.

"That's thank you for getting me out of the tight spot with Daniel..." She walked ahead, and boarded the Fire Flash, greeting the attendants along the way.

"Tara! I didn't think you were on this flight!"

"I'm not, Charli... I'm a passenger..." Tara grinned, and Charli nodded.

"Using your free points?"

"Oh, you bet I am!" the two laughed, and Tara took her seat, followed by Alan, who sat next to her, and then Gordon, Penelope and Parker, who sat across the aisle from them in the centre row of seats.

Tara leaned back, and watched out the window, not bothering to pay attention to the emergency procedure display, having given it several times before.

The plane began to taxi, and she looked out the windows, watching the world fly by.

Alan leaned back, and quickly fell into a slight slumber.

* * *

_Alan was laying on a picnic blanket, watching the sunset behind a hill._

_Lying on his arm, sighing contentedly, was Tara. _

_She snuggled up to him, and smiled, running her fingers through his messy blonde hair._

_She sat up, and leaned over him, her hair cascading over her shoulder, and falling beside her face._

_Alan cupped her cheek in his hand, and she grinned, giggling as he brushed her hair behind her ear._

"_Alan..." He smiled._

"_Tari..." She grinned wider._

_Tara leaned in, her lips seeming so soft and red the closer they go to his._

_Closer... Closer... Closer..._

"Alan!" Tara nudged him awake, unclipping her seatbelt.

"We're here!" He blinked sleepily.

"Huh?"

"We're in California! Wake up!" He rubbed his eyes, and sat up straight.

"That quickly?" Tara grinned.

"You slept through the whole trip... Gordon threw peanuts at you again for about 20 minutes, but you didn't budge so he got bored and threw them at me..."

"Oh..." Tara furrowed her brow as he sluggishly undid his seatbelt, and stretched.

"You... Uhh... said my name again in your sleep..." Alan blinked.

"I did?"

"Mmmhmm..." She eyed him suspiciously.

"Anything I should know about?" Alan grinned lopsidedly.

"Not that I can think of..." Tara smiled, and got up first, sliding past him, and grabbing her bag from the overhead compartment.

"Come along Tara... Alan..." Penelope, Parker, and Gordon were already halfway out the plane, and Tara hurried to catch up with them, Alan following, rubbing his neck.

"She always seems to wake me up before the good bit..." He grumbled, trudging out, and down the plane ramp, where his elder brothers, and his father were waiting.

Tara grinned, and raced up, hugging each of the Tracy boys in turn.

Virgil couldn't help but be shocked.

"This is a change from the Tara at her graduation... threatening to rip my lungs out if I called her Ra-ra..."

Tara smiled sweetly.

"Oh, I'll still do that... It's just good to see you... that's all..."

* * *

"How _could _you have been _so stupid?_ _What if there had been a rescue_?" Jeff bellowed at his sons, once they'd returned to Tracy Island. 

Tara had decided to leave the yelling match, and went upstairs to the spare room Tin-tin and Kyrano had set up for her to stay in.

She dumped her bag on the floor, and walked over to the window, tugging it open, and looking out.

Unfortunately, Virgil had decided to walk past her room at that moment.

"Oi!" He raced in, and grabbed Tara's arm.

"What in the-- _Lemme go!" _Tara yanked her arm from his grasp, and glared at him.

"You are _not_ running off again!" Tara rolled her eyes.

"You got that right! I just opened the window to get some air in here, you prat!"

"Oh..." Virgil flushed under the blonde's glare and she hit him upside the head.

Virgil rubbed his head gingerly, sulking. Tara rolled her eyes and headed back downstairs where Jeff Tracy was still roaring at his sons.

"Hey..." Jeff was pacing infront of his desk, Alan and Gordon sitting in absolute fear on two seats near the chess board, Scott was leaning against a wall, and Lady Penelope was talking to Parker in a low voice.

Tara took a seat nearby, and smiled lightly at the two youngest boys, who were still shifting around in their chairs.

"Alright... There is no doubt that you two will need to be punished... And the punishment is this... You two are grounded..."

Alan let out a sigh of relief.

"Until further notice, you two are under house arrest, unless needed for a rescue... But even then, we'll see the extent you're needed... if not very much, you two are to stay here, and Scott, Virgil and I can handle it...You're to stay in your rooms, and not to come out until I feel your stint has been served... Now march up there... your grounding starts as of now..." Jeff pointed at the stairs, and the two trudged up, closing their bedroom doors behind them.

John's eyes began to flash, and Jeff grumbled, sitting at his desk.

"Go ahead John..."

"Hello Father... We've got a rescue call... There's a ocean cruiser in the Mediterranean, one of the engine's has blown, the fuel line's sprung a leak, and the other one's on the verge... there are 15 people on board, and 10 are accounted for, and on the nearby life rafts... Father... if the other engine blows, the cruiser will explode, and the shock wave will kill the people in the water..."

Jeff sighed.

"Scott, you head off to the scene... Virgil, take Pod 4... Gordon might be able to patch the fuel leak... And you're going to need to go aboard, Virgil... to get the last passengers... So you'll need help..."

Tara cleared her throat, and Jeff surveyed her over his hands.

"Tara... could you go and fetch the boys from upstairs?" Tara cleared her throat again, and Jeff shook his head.

"It's too dangerous for a Lady, Tara..." She just looked at him.

"Did I or did I not run into a burning, collapsing building when I was 16? Didn't I manage to save 2 lives? Hrm?" Jeff didn't look moved.

"Tara..."

"Come ON Uncle Jeff! What if they're at two completely different ends of the ship? Alan can't be in two places at once!"

Finally, Jeff sighed in defeat.

"Fine... just this once... but you can't pilot anything..." Tara grinned, and raced upstairs, slamming her palm against the doors of both the boys.

"Rescue, you two! Up and out!"

"Both of us?" Gordon opened his door, and Tara beamed.

"And me," She sprinted downstairs to the passenger lift, followed by the younger boys, both puzzled as all hell.(Gordon was also grumbling something about "losing the time he was finally getting off", and "stupid manically happy women and their damn need to go on rescues")

Jeff leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"Thunderbirds are Go..."

* * *

"Thunderbird Two, this is Thunderbird One..." 

"Thunderbird One, Thunderbird Two... What's up Scott?"

"Virgil! What's your ETA?"

"Uhh..." Virgil's eyes flickered up to the onboard computer.

"10 and one half minutes... everything alright?"

"When you get here, Virgil, You have 20 minutes to drop Thunderbird 4, and lower Tara and Alan onto the ship to find the last passengers, and then get everyone out of here..."

"Have you talked to one of the engineers?"

"Yes Virg... he told me the tanker's got 30 minutes, max..."

Virgil sighed, and glanced behind him at the three, sitting in the red velour chairs.

"Gordo... you might want to go and wait in Thunderbird 4..." Gordon nodded, and got up, sprinting through the pod doors. Tara was looking out the window, her hair tied back, a few wisps falling over her face. She fiddled with the clips on her pink and silver uniform, and bit her lip.

Virgil pushed the throttle to maximum, and then pulled off, flicking a few switches as the wreck came into view.

"Right..." he glanced back.

"Gordo, I'm dropping the pod now,"

Gordon's response was quick, and almost immediately afterwards, the three inside the 'bird heard an almighty splash, which could only mean...

"Thunderbird 4 to Thunderbird 2... I'm in the water, Virg..."

"F.A.B. Gordo... Thunderbird 2 to Thunderbird 1..."

"Thunderbird 2, Thunderbird 1..."

"Gordo's in the water Scott..." Virgil turned around.

"Alan, Tara... get to the lowering platform... I'll lower you two onto the ship... you have 20 minutes to find the 5 missing passengers, and to get the hell outta there..."

"F.A.B..." Alan got up, Tara following quickly.

Alan unclipped the gate, and ushered Tara into the platform, slipping in after her, and securing the door.

"We're in Virg...'

"Lowering Platform now..." the doors underneath the two opened, and Tara couldn't help but let out a gasp.

Alan chuckled.

"Scared?" She turned, looking smug.

"You wish..."

* * *

"I'll meet you back here in 15, Alright? I'll go to the bow... you head to the stern... Call me on my watch if you hit a snag..." Tara nodded, sprinting off, skidding to a halt, and down a small set of stairs. 

Alan watched her disappear, and then turned, taking off.

Tara had found down the staircase a row of rooms, each door closed.

She let out a moan, and proceeded to kick them down.

She didn't have time to turn the handles.

In one of the last rooms, cowering in a bathroom, she found the first of the 5 people, telling him the standard: I'm international rescue... go up on deck...

The man nodded, and raced out, heading upstairs.

Tara flicked her watch.

"Alan! How you going?"

"Found 3 people... You?"

"Found the fourth..."

"There's not much up here... I've searched all through..."

"That was fast..."

"Like I said, not much..." Tara sniggered.

"Head up to the platform... I've sent my guy up there... You wait with the four of them, I'll keep looking..."

"Tara..."

"Trust me!" Tara severed the connection, and ran to the end of the corridor, spying something lying on a staircase.

It was a life jacket.

Muttering to herself, Tara stumbled over it, and up the stairs, finding an option of going left, or down a steep stairwell.

She chose the stairwell.

With a cough from the strong fumes, Tara covered her nose, and started downwards.

* * *

"Uhh... Virg...?" 

"What is it Gordon?"

"I'm at a porthole that views one of the lower decks of the ship..."

"What's your point, Gordon?" Virgil hit autopilot, and headed back into the rear of the ship, preparing the large lowering dock to pick up the people in the water.

"I can see Tara..."

"_Aaaaaand_?"

"She's in the engine room... knee deep in water..." The T2 pilot blinked vacantly.

"Maybe we should call Alan...?"

"F.A.B."

* * *

Tara sprinted over by the massive metallic monster, and turned over the body of a young man. 

She felt his pulse, and let out a sigh of relief.

He was alive, just unconscious.

"Alan... this is Tara..."

"Tara! Gordon can see you through the portholes, where the hell are you?!"

"The engine room... I've found our last engineer... Load everyone into the platform... I'll be up in about 5, maybe 10 minutes..."

"You have 6, Tara... hurry!" Tara leaved a groan, and shakily hauled the man over her shoulders, stumbling over to the staircase.

Suddenly, the ship gave a lurch, and she was thrown against the stairwell walls, bruising her shoulder.

Her grip gave way, and the man slid down a few stairs.

Grumbling to herself, Tara rubbed her sore shoulder, and picked him up again.

"This... would be so... much... easier... if you... could... walk..." She stumbled up a few more stairs, into the dark.

* * *

"Tara! Where are you? We need to be out of here in half a minute!" 

"Alan, this is Thunderbird 2... I've picked up the crew at seat... I'm lowering the hook winch now... secure it to the dock, and I'll pull you, Tara and the five up..."

"Virg... Tara's found the last guy, but she's still not back..."

"Alan... load the others in, and try to find Tara..."

"Thanks for the obvious, Virg..." Alan ushered the four into the enclosed platform, and clicked the gate shut, sprinting off in Tara's direction.

He jumped down a small staircase, and raced through the door filled hallway, finding the fork at the end.

"Tari?" Alan's stomach fell, spying something lying on the stairs.

It was that damn life jacket... again.

Alan heard a thud down the stairs, and immediately feared the worst.

"Tara!"

The first thud was followed by a few more, and Alan sprinted up the stairs, finding the limp, unconscious body of a man.

Tara was nowhere in sight.

"TARA!" he heard a groan, and picked up the body at his feet, searching frantically around the area.

"Alan?" A hand appeared through a pile of life jackets, and other assorted fallen items, and tossed the objects off her silver form.

"Tari! You're OK!"

She smirked.

"Of course! You think a minor thing, like falling down a staircase, and a shelf collapsing on me is gonna do me in?" he took her hand, and pulled the girl to her feet.

"Come on... Virgil's lowering the winch now... we should just make it..." the two - and the unconscious man - sprinted off, up to the deck.

* * *

"Thunderbird 2, this is Thunderbird 1..." 

"Here Scott..."

"Got the platform onboard yet?"

"Nope... Alan and Tara are still on their way back with the last guy..."

"Virg! Get them up now... Alan and Tara need to hurry up!"

Virgil grumbled, mockingly repeating his brother's words.

"OK, Scott..."

* * *

The two stumbled up the small stair set, and bolted over to the platform, Alan flinging to gate open, and handing the body to one of the people inside. 

"Tara! Get in; I'll hook the winch..." Tara nodded, slipping inside.

"F.A.B. Alan..." Alan climbed up the side of the covered platform, grabbing hold of the hook winch Virgil lowered.

He clipped and secured it to the loop on top of the cover, and swung inside, closing the gate.

"Thunderbird 2, this is the landing party... Pull us up NOW Virg..." Tara commanded into the radio, and Virgil cracked a smile.

"F.A.B. Ra-ra..."

* * *

"Thunderbird 1, this is Thunderbird 2..." 

"Go ahead Virgil,"

"We've just dropped the engineers at the local hospital... Alan, Tara, Gordon and I are heading back to base now, Scott..."

"F.A.B... I'll meet you at home, Virg..."

"F.A.B, Scott..."

* * *

Jeff surveyed his sons over his hands. 

"Well done boys..." Tara couldn't help but clear her throat.

"Yes, Tara... and you..." She smiled over at her mother, who suddenly seemed to find the ceiling incredibly interesting.

"Now..." Jeff turned to his youngest children.

"Back to house arrest, boys..." Gordon and Alan grumbled, trudging upstairs to their rooms.

"See you, Al..."

"Bye Gordo..." Alan stifled a yawn, and collapsed on his bed, still adorned in his silver Thunderbirds uniform.

He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

_**a/n**__ So there's another chapter finished. whee. __Right now, it's 12:33 a.m. and I have school today. I'm going to go to bed and try not to think about the three English periods I have tomorrow... though on the up side, I have a class I _can_ sleep in inbetween the English torture._

_Also - forgiveness for the poor quality of this chapter. Believe it or not, it was written when I was... ooh. 13? Maybe 14? I'm not sure. But my writing style was heavily "elipsis focused" back then. Indeed, I loved me dots. _

_Now, of course, at age 16, I'm president of the Grammar Whore's society (and believe me, that's an _awkward_ thing to explain to your teachers.)_

_Right. Bed._

_Wish me luck for my Diploma Written Exam (Gaaaaah. Teacher Training _bites)_ this Saturday._

_Kill me._

_Much Love,  
The Flame Faerie_

_P.S. I'm also at camp this week from Wednesday. Whoop-ee._

_P.P.S. As mentioned previously, it's 12:37 in the morning. Apologies for not responding to reviews, but thank you all for your kind comments! You really made my day! ... ... ... and you'd _loooooove_ to again... ::hint::hint::_


	31. College Life

_**a/n** Aha! See? I promised you I'd get this out before the end of the month. And it's July 31st. So there. In fact, it's the 31st for the 31st chapter... ... was that convincing? No? Okay then. Well, read on anyway._

**_a/n/2_**_ Oh yeah. Sorry the chapter sucks. I wrote this back when I wrote the last chapter. So really, I have no excuse._

* * *

**Chapter 31** - College Life

* * *

A few days after the rescue, Tara was wandering around the island, when she got a call from one of her college friends. 

And so, a few more days on, she was all packed up and heading back home.

"Have you said goodbye to everyone yet, Tara?" Penelope inquired, Tara dumping her bag on the floor with as much grace as an elephant attempting to do ballet.

"No... I've yet to say goodbye to the prisoners upstairs..." Penelope tried unsuccessfully to hide her grin and shooed her daughter upstairs for her final farewell.

Tara headed up the stairs, stopping at Alan's door and taking a deep breath, before knocking.

She found him reading, lying on his bed.

"Hey..." Alan looked over and grinned.

"Hey Tari... You all packed and ready to go?" She raised an eyebrow, but nodded.

"You seem eager to get rid of me..." Alan couldn't help but smirk.

"Me? No! Never!" Tara playfully thumped his shoulder.

"I just came up to say goodbye..." Alan stood up, dumping his book on his bed.

"See you, Tari..." He enveloped her in a hug and she reciprocated, feeling the thud of his heart beat against her own.

"Make sure you call from college! I want to know Little Miss Creighton-Ward is safe!" Tara thumped her hand against his chest, scowling playfully.

"Fine... _Scott_..." Alan looked offended.

"Oi!" With a final wave and smirk, Tara headed downstairs to her mother.

.1.1.1.1.1.

Tara gave her mother a hug and a kiss, before lugging her bags upstairs to her apartment. 

Inside, Frances, Stephanie and Maddie were awaiting her return.

"Tars! We wondered whether you'd gotten caught up in Cali or something!" Tara raised an eyebrow.

"No... I told you... I was staying at a friend's place..." realisation dawned on Maddie's face and she immediately flushed.

Frances and Stephanie rolled their eyes.

"It's good to see you back, Tars..." Tara grinned, "Now let's go out clubbing!"

Stephanie shot Frances a reproachful look.

"Is this just an excuse for you to get drunk?"

Frances smirked.

"Oh yeah..."

Maddie rolled her eyes emphatically.

"We have College tomorrow, Flu... Don't think that's the best idea..."

.1.1.1.1.1.

The next morning, Tara couldn't sleep and decided on getting up early and went for a jog around the block.

When she got back, Tara had time to have a quick shower and get dressed, before having to drive to her first class - Philosophy.

"Hey Tars!" Tara wrapped her jacket around her body and smiled.

"Hey Maddie... How's Life?"

"Ugh... I've got Psychology this morning..."

"With Frances?" Maddie laughed, nodding.

"I swear, if not for that girl, that class would be unbearable!" Tara yawned.

"Yeah... I'd better get to Phil..."

"Yeah... have fun with Jessica C..." Tara poked her tongue out and walked into the main building at Oxford.

Finding her lecture room, Tara took a nice seat up the back of the small theatre and got herself comfortable.

.1.1.1.1.1.

20 minutes later, the professor still hadn't shown up, so the class was getting a bit out of hand... except for Tara - she fell asleep.

"EVERYONE QUIET! INTERNATIONAL RESCUE'S ON THE RADIO!" the class fell into a hush and huddled around the transmitter.

"... _I can see the Thunderbirds now! Thunderbird 2's just touching down... and dropping a Pod down... There's a craft coming out..."_

"Tara! Aren't you interested in International Rescue?" Tara opened an eye and scowled.

"Been there, done that... got the T-shirt..."

"What?"

Tara turned to face the girl who'd woken her.

"You go listen to the radio and have deluded fantasies of the Thunderbird Boys... I'm going to sit here and sleep..."

The girl sprinted back down to the group and continued listening to the broadcast.

Tara went back to sleep.

.1.1.1.1.1.

The bell rang to end the lesson, just as the rescue got finished.

The class went out in a chatter, Tara sluggishly swinging her bag over her shoulder and leaving the building in the bustle and heading to the field, to meet up with Frances, Stephanie, Maddie and alike.

On her way out, Tara couldn't help but overhear the conversation of a group of girls - the (Official Unofficial) International Rescue Fan Club (or, "those random fangirls everyone's scared of", or even "those random girls Tara hadn't even bothered to learn the names of because she thought they were so pathetic fawning over _Scott_, for crying out loud").

"I wonder why Creighton-Ward didn't want to listen to the broadcast today..." Brunette twirled some of her hair around her index finger, her face screwed up as she considered the question, as if the answer which would dawn upon her would solve the mysteries of life.

"She said she didn't care..." Blonde responded, popping her bubblegum and smacking her lips together. Brunette nodded emphatically, before Dye-job cleared her throat.

"You know what I've heard?" the group closed in, the Dye-job exaggerating her whisper horribly. Tara couldn't help but roll her eyes. Obviously they hadn't spotted her walking behind them, close enough to hear every inarticulate word they were saying.

"Well," Apparently, she was head of one the biggest Thunderbirds fan clubs and the boys found out about it, taking her on a tour of their base," the girls sighed longingly, "...and _apparently_ she fell in love with one of them and went out with him," there was a grumble of envy here, "...but because of his ties to IR, they broke up," Brunette made a nose. Tara wasn't sure if it was joy or sympathy, "...and now she hates them..." A snort had been bubbling up Tara's throat since the start of the long winded, soap-operatic tale and only now burst out from her pursed lips.

"Oh hell," Tara raised an eyebrow, "Now I know you're not talking about me," the fanclub span around, each resembling a deer in the headlights. After a mexican standoff moment, Brunette piped up, indignant.

"Well, Creighton-Ward. Seems you have no right to bag us about our IR love. _You_ were the _president_ of the _biggest one_," Tara bit her knuckle to stop herself from laughing so hard.

"And who told you that?"

Dye-job looked defensive.

"I've heard it..."

"From the pixies? Give it up. It's bullshit,"

"Sure! That's what you say..." Tara raised her eyebrows, not saying a word.

Finally, the awkward silence was broken by that tell-tale beeping from her wrist. Not being able to bite back smirks, Tara excused herself and stepped away from the suspicious group.

"S'up Alan?"

"Hey Tars,"

"Heard part of the rescue on the radi-- Wait a second, the picture's clearer," she pursed her lips, "... and that rumbling sounds awfully--"

"Look up," Tara found she didn't need to. Blonde screeched it first.

"OH MY GOSH, IT'S THE THUNDERBIRDS!"

Wincing, Tara glanced up. Thunderbirds one and two were flying low overhead, Thunderbird one looping around the green freighter. Tara rolled her eyes, turning back to her watch.

"Hey Virg! Tell Scott to open the window!" there was a distant F.A.B. on the watch and Tara could clearly see the silver screen lower on Scott's side. When they were directly overhead, she cupped her hands to her lips.

"YOU GUYS NEED TO GET A HOBBY!" The fan club behind her gaped and gasped in disbelief. Dye-job feinted.

"You can't say that to International Rescue!"

"And yet," she crossed her arms, pressing a fingertip to her lips, "I just did," she flashed them a grin, before walking off, an obvious skip in her step. She would have forgotten about Alan, however, he laughed just at that moment, drawing the girl's attention back to her watch.

"Scott says get stuffed,"

"Tell Scott he can bite my--"

"Tara Belle!" Virgil scolded. She smiled sweetly.

"Yesm Virgie?" There was a grumble. It sounded distinctly like the word "git".

"Hey Tars!" Maddie waved her arms and Tara raised her chin in acknowlegement.

"Hey, Al. I've got to get going,"

"Alright. We'll see you soon, yeah?"

"F.A.B." and the connection dropped out. Tara slid under the willow tree next to Maddie. A few moments later, the girls were joined by a smirking Frances.

"I walked past the Thunderbird club. Jamie said it might interest you to know Lynn's regained consciousness... What exactly did you do?"

"I told the International Rescue guys to get a hobby..." Tara shrugged, nonchalantly rummaging through her bag, "Where the hell did I put my medicine notes?"

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Hey Tara Belle!" Tara turned to face the auburn haired girl sprinting towards her.

"What's up Steph?"

"Frances and I are throwing a study party in the library s'arvo. Want in?" the blonde shrugged nonchalantly.

"Might as well. I've got a bio essay I need to finish and it's probably smarter to finish it where there are books on biology," Stephanie laughed.

"And not where Frances can be distracted by the TV or poptarts," the girls giggled.

.1.1.1.1.1.

About an hour into their study session, Tara slammed her biology text shut.

"That's it," she fumed, "I need caffeine to function,"

"There's a coke machine in the main quad," Frances drawled, not looking up from her psych textbook, "Don't take too long,"

And with a quick nod, the girl threw on her coat and scarf, rushing out into the brisk open air of the university quadrangle.

She withdrew a few coins from her pocket, slid them into the machine, and sighed, waiting for her caffeinated saviour to fall and grace her with its energy.

* * *

_**a/n** So... um... I'm back from my stranding in Amish country?_

_ No? Well how about "My cancer of the fingers has gone into complete remission"...?_

_Right. Well, um. Chapter 32 out soon. Promise. _

_ Pinky swear._

_On the bible._

_and my (live) mother's (un)grave._

_and on my life._

_and under pain of death. From stabbings. With a pencil._

_and pitchforks._

_Review...?  
_


	32. Tangled Up in Me

**_a/n_**_ Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. Other than Tara. She's **all** mine. Oh, and her friends._

_Chapter title from song by Skye Sweetnam of the same name. _

* * *

**Chapter 32** - Tangled Up in Me

* * *

Tara let out an annoyed grunt, re-pressing the machine button again. 

When there was no reaction, she let out a huff, and kicked the machine.

Behind her, the girl heard a chuckle, and she span around, coming face to face with another college first year - a boy, with long, dirty blonde hair, spiked up messily, and dark, hazel brown eyes.

Immediately, she felt her face grow flushed, and she smiled lightly.

"Bad morning," she explained and he laughed.

"Aha. And you're taking it out on the coke machine?" Tara's cheeks grew hot, and she could almost swear you could fry an egg on one.

"It took my change and didn't give me my coke..." She shrugged, the boy chuckling again, and taking a few steps towards her, and pressing the button below the one Tara had been attacking.

Immediately, a can coke fell out of the bottom.

"Sexist machine," She glowered at the machine, snatching her can from the tray, almost as if she thought if she didn't, the drink dispenser would swallow it back up.

"Better?" She popped the top open and looked up at the boy, almost pondering an answer to his question. The girl took a swig of her drink, sloshed it around her mouth thoughtfully and swallowed it, grinning.

"Definitely," He gave her a lop sided smile, and cocked his head to the side.

"You have a name, or should I just call you the girl who attacks coke machines?" Cerulean eyes narrowed to a glare at the attractive boy. Tara would have, no doubt, made some comment back at him, were her lips not sealed around the coke can and her mouth full of caffeinated goodness.

"Just for that," she responded as soon as her mouth was empty, "You don't get to know my name. And I'll have you know it's a damn good one," he chuckled again.

"Well I'm Charlie. I guess I'll see you round then, Tiger," He winked at her, and Tara's eyes widened at his forwardness.

_The audacity_…!

Yet, the girl couldn't understand why her heartbeat quickened and the blood began to samba in her ears. (_**A/N**__ prizes for whoever can tell me what episode of Doctor Who I was watching when this chapter was written…_)

Charlie turned from her, stuffing his hands back into the pocket on the front of his maroon hoodie, his grey gloves hanging from his navy overcoat.

Swirling the dregs of the coke around in the bottom of her can, Tara glanced up at the fast retreating boy.

"Tara," she called and he turned, eyebrow raised.

"Tara," she repeated, throwing the can into the nearby bin with a satisfying _clang_, "My name is Tara,".

Charlie laughed.

"I guess I'll see you around then, Tara,"

Grinning, Tara responded, "I'm sure you will,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

"About sodding time you got back!" Frances huffed, closing her Psychology textbook with a loud thud.

"How long does it take to get coke?" Tara teeth sank into her bottom lip and she smiled slyly.

"W-ee-ll, it depends, really,"

Frances raised an eyebrow, leaning back in the library chair.

"Who is he?" Tara immediately let out a sigh, and looked at her friend.

"What makes you say it's a guy?"

"O-Okay then... Who is she?" Tara immediately stripped off her scarf, bundled it up, and threw it at the girl.

"It is a _he_," She sat down across from her raven haired friend, "And _his_ name is Charlie,"

Frances leaned back, her hands clasped together as she looked up at the ceiling. Evidently, she was running a list of her conquests through her mind.

A few minutes later, she sat back up straight, and leaned over the table.

"Nope, he's not one of mine," Next to her, Stephanie scoffed.

"So he's either gay or new," Frances struck the girl upside the head and glared.

"I resent that!" Tara chuckled, shrugging her tan overcoat off her shoulders, hanging it over the back of the chair.

"Have you guys done any work since I left?"

"Steph finished her Latin extension essay, and I've nearly finished my Psych study. _Nearly_," she held up two fingers, almost touching.

"Fabulous," Tara flicked her Biology textbook open to the last page, and sighed, tapping her pencil against a fresh page in her notepad.

.1.1.1.1.1.

The next morning, Tara heaved a groan, rolling over in her warm bed, and looked at the clock.

Immediately she sat up straight, and swore. Loudly.

Tara kicked off her bed sheets and sprang up, racing through her wardrobe, and quickly pulling on a pair of dark denim jeans, a baby pink button up blouse haphazardly buttoned, and her black overcoat, hanging her grey scarf around her neck loosely.

She tugged on her knee high black boots, and dragged her fingers through her hair, taming the "bed-head" look to a mere "sex-hair".

Tara quickly raced through the hall of her apartment, picking up her satchel and keys on the way, sprinting out of the flat.

The blonde girl threw her bag into the back of her pink convertible, and dove into the front seat, starting the car up, and putting her foot down, driving out of the parking lot and down the road to the university.

Tara glanced down at her car clock, swearing again, and immediately slamming her foot down on the breaks.

A black car pulled in front of her, and Tara angrily slammed her hand against the carhorn.

She was already late.

Much to her displeasure, the black car continued in to the university, Tara following in a rage.

'_Professor Seed is going to kill me...'_ She groaned inwardly, pulling into a parking spot, and jumping out of the car, gathering up her bag, and locking the convertible.

When she turned around, she spied the driver of the black car approaching her.

It was Charlie.

"Let me guess... bad morning?"

"Can't talk, running late for biology,"

Charlie laughed warmly.

"That makes two of us," she laughed, and then was off, her feet thumping against the pavement as she sprinted. Behind her, she heard the distinctive sound of masculine running – the steady thud of his feet against the path which was soon drowned out by the blood pounding in her ears.

Tara skidded to a halt outside her lecture theatre, and peered through the glass on the door, letting out a sigh of relief.

"He's not here yet," She opened the door, and raced inside, scanning the room, and spying an auburn haired girl waving eratically.

"TARA!" Tara laughed, and headed down the stairs, and across the front of the room, before climbing another set of stairs to where Maddie had saved her a seat.

"Hey Mads,"

"Oversleep, did you?" Tara rolled her eyes.

"Me? Oversleep? Whatever gave you that idea?" Maddie gave Tara a sly wink.

"That hunk you walked in with," Tara slapped the girl playfully, and leaned back in her chair.

"Who? Charlie? No. Met him yesterday when I--" as if she realized what she was about to admit, Tara's eyes widened.

Maddie cocked a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"You did what?"

"Oh, nothing," Tara waved her hand dismissively. Maddie's lips pursed.

"What did you attack, Tara Belle?"

"Me? Attack something? Never! It certainly wasn't the coke machine, if that's what you're thinking. Nope. Uh-uh. Not me,"

Maddie let out an ungracious snort of laughter, covering her mouth and nose with her hand to muffle it. Tara frowned.

"It was being a chauvinistic pig!"

"It's a vending machine, Tara!"

"Yeah, and a chauvinistic sexist vending machine at that," she turned away from Maddie and logged on to _Oxford Online_.

Every lesson, each student logged on here, to chat with others in their classes, or exchange files. That were related to the class, of course.

_Certainly_ not to exchange phone numbers, flirt, give out party details or to share around pirated songs from an Argentinian version of Nirvana's _Nevermind_. (**_a/n_**_ true story. I own the Argentinian version of Nevermind. I bought said CD in Australia. Does that make sense? No. No it does not.)_

Tara typed in her password, and waited for the system to acknowledge.

_**Welcome to Oxford Online **__Tara Creighton-Ward!_

She leaned back in her chair, lacing her fingers behind her head and closed her eyes, slowly tuning out the lecture theatre environment.

The cadence of a personal message snapped her quickly from her limbo.

_**Charlie Bourne**_ _Hey Tiger ;)_

Tara cocked an eyebrow.

_**Tara Creighton-Ward**__: Hi... Charlie..._

_**Charlie**__: Having fun?_

_**Tara**__: Define "fun"_

_**Charlie**__: Alright. I'll go crack out my dictionary_

_**Tara**__: Yeah, you do that. I'll just sit here and lose consciousness._

"Who're you taking to?" Maddie rested her chin on Tara's shoulder, reading the conversation thus far, "Charlie Bourne? Who's he?"

_**Charlie**__: Is your friend reading this conversation?_

_**Tara**__: Say hi to the nice man, Madeline.  
_

_**Charlie**__: You think I'm nice?_

_**Tara**__: No. I think you're a git. But Maddie needs to learn man--_

Charlie looked up in time to see Tara get punched in the arm. Hard._  
_

_**Charlie**__: That must've hurt._

_**Tara**__: Eh. I've been hit worse. I'm more EMOTIONALLY WOUNDED now than anything else._

Maddie snorted.

_**Charlie**__: Aww. Want me to kiss it better?  
_

Maddie snorted again. Tara gave her a look of mock disgust.

"Perhaps we should just call you _Piggy_, little missy,"

"Bite me, Tara," Maddie responded affectionately. Tara chuckled and turned back to her computer screen.

_**Tara**__: Madeline wishes to express an expression along the lines of "Ghaaack". She can't really articulate it, however.  
_

_**Charlie: **I think you just did.__  
_

_**Tara: **Well. Super Talented Tara to the rescue, I guess.  
_

_**Charlie**__: Not thinking to highly of yourself there, I see.  
_

_**Tara**__: You're one to talk, Mr. "I-charm-coke-machines"_

_**Charlie**__: ... I pressed a button. And I showed the machine kindness. I didn't flip out and kick it._

_**Tara**__: ... git._

There were a few moments of dead air before Charlie started up again.

_**Charlie**__: So do you live on campus?_

_**Tara**__: Um, no. I live off-campus with a few friends. You?  
_

_**Charlie**__: Yup. Down Frat row. Omega Ro frat house.  
_

_**Tara**__: Aww! A fraternity! How darling! Did you have to get really drunk and dress up in women's clothing?_

Again, there was silence.

_**Tara**__: Okay. So maybe my view of frats have come entirely from American television, but TV has never lied to me before. It won't start now._

_**Charlie**__: Uh-huh... Listen, we're having a party at the frat house tonight... you can come if you want..._

_**Tara**__: Ahh. Wouldn't be a party without me, eh? We'll see. Depends how much homework I get from my Med sci teacher._

_**Charlie**__: Please come? I'd really like to get to know you a bit better. I mean, all I know now is that you have uncontrolled rage issues.  
_

_**Tara**__: Knob-head! I was late this morning, and tired yesterday! AND I had to finish my Med. Sci. essay - which I did at 3 a.m.! I had my reasons for attacking that sexist machine!_

_**Charlie:**__ Okay! Okay! Gosh. Don't want to get on your bad side.  
_

_**Tara**__: Damn right you don't. ::pouts::  
_

_**Charlie:**__ Aww. I can see you doing that too.  
_

_**Tara:**__ Cute._

_**Charlie:**__ I know you are._

Tara just stared at the screen

'_Did he just-- Is he flirting with me?'_

_**Charlie:**__ Tara...? Shit. Sorry. I wasn't being too forward, was I? I'm sorry.  
_

_**Tara: **No, Charlie, really. It's Okay. Y'know, I think I might just come tonight..._

Tara took a deep breath, and sent the last message. Since Josh she hadn't dated anyone --

Maybe it was time to get back into the game.

He was nice enough, after all.

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Ready yet, Tara Belle?" The blonde examined herself one last time, before grabbing her silver clutch and heading out to her friends.

"You sure you don't want to come, Steph?" she shook her head, smiling.

"He invited you, Tars, not us..." Frances smirked.

"...we don't want to interrupt the romance," Tara shot the two girls a look and walked to the front door.

"I'll be back by 12," Frances laughed.

"No you won't. We'll see you tomorrow morning sometime, Tara Belle," she rolled her cerulean eyes, and closed the door behind her.

.1.1.1.1.1.

Charlie was standing by the drink table, leaning against a chair, and sipping a rum and coke when the front door of the frat house opened, and Tara entered.

His eyes drank in her appearance. She was wearing a white lower back ribbon lace-up corset, jeans, white ballet flats, and her hair was out, hanging at her shoulder blades. Her eyes were smoky, lined with kohl and dusty blue. As soon as she had spotted him, a smirk played over her glossed lips.

He almost dropped his drink in shock.

"Waiting for me?" she asked playfully, taking his drink and sipping it. He laughed.

"Want me to get you one?" She shook her head.

"No thanks. The only way to avoid Date Rape is stealing some guy's drink,"

"So I'm 'some guy', then?" She winked.

"Only if you want to be," Charlie smirked.

"Now _that_, Miss. Creighton-Ward, sounded like a proposition," She grinned.

"You'll have to catch me first," resting his drink on a nearby table, Tara darted off into the crowd. Charlie smiled, and followed.

.1.1.1.1.1.

When he finally caught up to her, Charlie wrapped his arms around Tara's waist, and took her outside.

She turned to face him, a pout gracing her cute features.

Still in his arms, Tara looked up, and raised an eyebrow.

"Well?" she said, cocking her head to the side, "are you going to kiss me or what?"

Charlie smirked.

"No, I'm just looking at your eyes, Tiger," Tara chuckled.

"That's what they all say," Charlie leaned in the extra distance, and captured her lips with his own.

When they broke off, he spoke first.

"Go out with me?" She grinned.

"If you're good," He laughed, and retook her lips.

* * *

_**a/n **And another chapter down. Gee._

_Anyway, I know I forgot to do them last chapter (sorry guys - thanks to everyone who took the time to review chapter 30. I didn't mean to be a git in the non-reply thing.), so here we go..._

**money makes me smile** - aaah. I_ severely_ disliked the last chapter. Couldn't get it to flow right. But I needed the filler, so... meh. Anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me/putting up with me regardless. And I hope you enjoy your holiday!

**Corbin's my man - **Here you go. Updated :)

_Much love,  
The Flame Faerie__ xoxo  
_


	33. I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor

**_a/n_**_ I'm trying quite hard to get a few more chapters up before my end of form exams start. I'm also freaking out about said exams._

_Anything you recognise is probably not mine. Except Tara. And her new beau._**  
**

* * *

**Chapter 33** – I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor

* * *

That same night, Alan lay sprawled across his bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

_Strange_, he considered, _that the white paint of the roof reminds me of the smooth, white expanse of Tar—_

"This is ridiculous," he stated firmly, as if to convince someone else in his small room. There was no response.

Alan sat up and got to his feet, immediately settling in a pace of his room.

"It's been months," he rationalised, "If Tara wanted to say something, she would have by now. She isn't the kind of girl to ignore something like this. No. The only conclusion is that she's—" his throat caught, "She just doesn't like me. _Like that_."

"Aww, now bro," came a voice from the door, "Any girl like that just isn't worth your time," Alan span around, eyes wide.

"Gordon! You're supposed to be confined to your room!" the redhead shrugged.

"Unpicked the lock,"

"What if Dad catches you?"

"He's gone to bed,"

"Or Scott?" Gordon waved his hand at the thought.

"Please. Scott's downstairs reading over the International Rescue directives. Stickler for the rules, that one," Gordon shut the door behind him and sat down on Alan's bed, "So who's this girl who's got you in such a right state?" Alan raked his fingers through his hair, sighing.

"Promise you won't laugh?" And Gordon's stomach dropped, just like that. He was afraid of this.

"It's Tara, isn't it?" Alan laughed awkwardly.

"Tara? Me like? A-ha-ha, nooo—" he sat down heavily at his desk, "... is it that obvious?" Gordon nodded.

"But relax. Tin-tin has an inkling feeling, but the rest of the family's too thick to notice. Except maybe Grandma. But, y'know, Grandma's not around. Hasn't been in a couple of months,"Gordon paused to consider this, "Grandma's probably going to visit in the next few weeks, by that incredible logic,"

Alan sighed again.

"What should I do, Gordo?"

"To start with, I think I'd better hear your whole history with Ra-ra and we'll move from there,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

"... Tara's not the kind of girl to back out of telling someone something like that, bro. If she wanted something by it, you'd be the first to know,"

"You're right, Gordo..."

"'Course I am. If you want my advice bro, go out and find yourself a girl, mate. You'll feel all the better for it," Gordon grinned lecherously, "Not to mention, you'll be getting some tail while you get over her,"

Alan shot Gordon a look. Gordon winked suggestively. Alan's look turned to a glare. Gordon blew him a kiss.

Alan punched Gordon.

.1.1.1.1.1.

_Oh why the fuck am I here?_

After his third beer, Alan began questioning himself. It was obvious that none of these girls were Tara. Or anything _like_ Tara. Or could even come anywhere near making him feel better about the fact he was not with the girl he fancied the pants off.

_Oh, now __there's__ an idea. Tara with no pa—_

_No. Bad Alan._

He took a swig from the green bottle, letting the bitter liquid run down his throat and warm his stomach immensely. His head was pleasantly buzzing now, everything seeming all the more entertaining.

Yes, he was finally ready to search for someone.

Spinning on his bar stool, Alan looked out over the dance floor, seeing bodies writhe and gyrate to the beat of the electropunk pulse music. Girls were wearing as little as possible, men enjoying the sight and smells. Everywhere, people were hooking up, couples sidling to the sides of the room to snog (or, in Alan's opinion, suck each others faces off), even some practically going at it in the midst of the crowd.

_Welcome to L.A._, Alan thought with a wry smile, _Home to sex, drugs and rock 'n roll_.

He polished off his beer, before standing and heading towards the dancers.

And, of course, because the boy was by no means unattractive, he was almost immediately snapped up in a sea of scantily clad women, desperate for his attention.

This was perfect. In the flood of bodies, in the pulse of the music and in the haze of the alcohol, Alan could completely forget about that one little lady who was living in his mind.

And by the third song, one girl had claimed him, the others backing off as she slid herself against his form.

"Kara Ward," she whispered in his ear in a husky voice.

"Alan Tracy," his mind was gone. Lost to the primitive primal beats of the dance floor.

"Why don't we go back to my place, Alan..." she took his hand and led him out of the club. There was no resistance.

.1.1.1.1.1.

Kara backed Alan into her apartment, attached to his lips. The moment the front door was closed, Alan asserted his control, pushing her back against it. Kara wrapped a leg around his waist.

"Come on," she moaned as he kissed down her throat, "The bedroom's through here,"

The minute they were in there, Kara knocked Alan down onto her bed, immediately straddling him and claiming his swollen lips. Alan growled.

Slowly, she slid down, kissing his pulse points and then each inch of skin she bared.

Alan arched his back and moaned out one name:

"_Tara_,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Tara. Will you stop all that bloody grinning?" Frances growled. Tara's grin widened.

"Can't," she beamed, "Too happy,"

"And why is _that_, Miss. Creighton-Ward?" Stephanie stirred her coffee idly, raising her eyebrows at the blonde. Tara scrunched up her face, looking as though she considered this question. Maddie smirked.

"I bet I can guess," she mock-whispered to Frances. The Asian girl eyed her with interest.

"Yeah?"

"Yup,"

"Is it _something_ starting with _Ch_ and ending in _arlie_?"

"Only if it also starts with _B_ and ends with _ourne_," the girls laughed and Tara's cheeks coloured.

"You're mocking me," she accused them, waving her plastic spoon at each of her friends. The three gave her innocent smiles. Tara rolled her eyes.

"And you really must be thick if you think I'd fall for _that_,"

"Well, what can we say?" Frances shrugged, "It was worth a shot. So what has wonderboy done now to make you grin so manically?"

"We're going out to a movie tonight," the blonde responded, sipping her latte.

"Again?" Stephanie was incredulous, "That's the third time this week you two have gone out! For God's _sake_ Tara...!"

Tara grinned goofily.

"I can't help that. I really like him..." Tara jumped as arms encircled her waist and a stubbly chin rested on her shoulder.

"Really like who?" a deep voice asked, before a soft kiss was pressed against her bare shoulder.

The girl span around, giving Charlie a playful hit.

"Git," she pouted, "you startled me!" Charlie laughed, pecking her jutting lip.

"Forgive me?" Almost immediately, Tara's face broke out in a wide, beaming smile.

"Could I ever stay mad at you?"

"Ahh... never. I'm just far too lovable for anyone to hate. Not to mention, devilishly sexy,"

"Ahh," Tara drawled, "And so very _modest_ too," Charlie laughed, kissing the tip of Tara's nose.

"Only around you. See, I need to sing my praises so you'll keep going out with me,"

"No you don't," she responded, "You've already caught me, Charlie," And she kissed him.

"_Oh god! My virgin eyes...!"_

Meanwhile, on the other side of the table, three girls gagged, pulled faces and groaned at the utter fluff of the happy couple.

Tara shot Frances and Stephanie dark looks as they began mocking the two in an overly dramatic fashion. Maddie copped one for pretending to hang herself with her scarf.

Charlie just laughed.

"I'll pick you up at six. We'll grab some dinner before the session starts," he pressed a lingering kiss to Tara's soft lips one last time before untangling himself and turning to the girls.

The three stopped mid-gag and smiled sweetly at the boy. Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Bye girls,"

"Bye Charlie!" they waved him off enthusiastically. Frances was the first to turn and look back at Tara.

"_Oh for fuck's sake, Tara. Not __again_!"

* * *

_**a/n** and there we have chapter 33. Should be a bit of fun in the next chapter, though my lips are sealed as to its nature._

**Harmonic-Bad-Wolf:** Yeah! Imaginary cookie for you! Ooh... Now we get to the hard questions. (though before I begin: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you liked the chapters (o:) Martha's growing on me. I still don't like her as much as I did Rose (probably because Rose and I both look very similar, and I have, in fact, been nicknamed "Billie Rose" by some of my friends) but I'm sure, with time, I'll learn to adore her as much as I did Rose. Well, I hope, anyway. Was a little worried when people started calling her the "Third incarnation of Romana", but other than that, she's not bad. I still ship Doctor/Rose, regardless. And Donna Noble, the Doctor's companion? Well, uh... I'm... I don't like it as such yet. She really got on my nerves in Runaway Bride. I mean, Catherine Tate's a pretty entertaining woman, but I'm hoping that they're not going to try to turn the show into "a-gag-a-minute" sort of deal with her. It might be interesting to see Donna vs. Martha though. How about you?

**Corbin's My Man:** Hehe (o: I'm glad you liked it and that it wasn't too fluffy. I must admit, I'm a fluff queen.

**Money makes me smile:** Hahahaha (o: I wondered what you'd think about Charlie.Rest assured, we're soon going to find out exactly what Alan thinks about him (and Tara's thoughts on Alan's new girl). Thankyou for sticking by me, regardless. If my plot goes according to plan, then we should be around for another... ooh. 17 chapters, including the epilogue. Have fun on your holiday and I look forward to hearing about some highlights in your next review ! (o:

_Much love,  
The-Flame-Faerie_


	34. Happy Birthday, Miss Tara

* * *

** Chapter 34 – **Happy Birthday, Miss. Tara

* * *

"I can't believe our little girl is growing up so fast!" Tara spluttered as she was clutched close in a strangling hug, "Oh my little darling!" 

The girl's arms waved wildly as she struggled to free herself from her captor. She really did need oxygen.

"Let me go, you demon," she rasped. Frances grinned and relinquished her hold on her best friend. Tara shot her a dark look, rubbing her neck gingerly.

"Knob-head," the Asian girl beamed.

"Prig face," she cooed.

"Smelly git,"

"Old man's undies," Tara opened her mouth to respond, before grimacing.

"Ew, Frances. That's just rank," Stephanie chuckled good-naturedly at the two, sliding into her seat at the breakfast table.

"So Tara darlin'," she leaned forward, plucking a slice of toast from Tara's plate with nimble fingers, "You've yet to tell us what you want for your birthday,"

Tara frowned at the sudden lack of cinnamon toast on her newly emptied plate. She glanced over at Frances, who bit into the other slice, closing her eyes as the cinnamon melted over her tongue.

The blonde girl glared.

"Well?" Stephanie pushed, taking another bite, "What _do_ you want?"

"New roommates," Tara responded, trudging to the kitchenette, "who_don't_ distract me and steal my breakfast,"

Frances grinned.

"Love you too, Tara honey," cerulean eyes narrowed and Frances blew the girl a kiss.

Tara stuck two new pieces of bread in the toaster, pouting like a petulant five year old.

.1.1.1.1.1.

The brisk November days rolled past, until finally the chill of December settled over Oxford college.

On this particular December day, Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward was seated inside a small café on the grounds, her nose buried in a book of Celtic Mythology. She was nursing a vanilla latte, taking a long sip every few pages of her book.

She was totally immersed in it.

Which is why, outside, four people found it immensely easy to meet, with her in sight, and discuss her.

"Any ideas, Charlie?" the boy shook his head, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat.

"She hasn't said a thing to me. Mind you," a devilish grin crossed his handsome features, "when we're together, we don't do much talking,"

The Asian girl punched his arm, hard.

"Don't you—" she grimaced, "Aaaugh. The _mental_ pictures, you wanker!" Charlie's grin widened, and he opened his mouth to retort, but Stephanie punched his other arm.

"Cram it, lover boy. We're here to talk about Tara's birthday shindig, not your sex life, or lack-thereof." Charlie looked immediately put out.

Stephanie closed her eyes, seeming to consider their options.

"House party it is then, okay? Can you keep her distracted long enough for us to get everyone in, and get everything set up," once more, the boy opened his mouth, but Frances silenced him with a glare.

"We don't want to know _how_, Bourne," she growled, "Just make sure you _do_."

"She's finished her coffee," Maddie finally piped up, "And she's getting up to leave,"

The four exchanged quick parting words, before darting off in different directions.

Charlie intercepted Tara on her way out, and immediately her face brightened.

"Charlie!" he claimed her lips with his, and the girl couldn't help but grin into it.

From their hiding spot several metres away, Frances, Stephanie and Maddie gagged.

.1.1.1.1.1.

"No peeking," Tara grumbled, crossing her arms across her chest and sticking out her bottom lip like a petulant child. She had a pink scarf tied across her eyes (which even she had to admit was well coordinated with her outfit – a long brown corduroy skirt which flared at the bottom, dark brown suede slouch boots, a white v-neck and dusty pink blazer, finished with a thin brown and pink woollen neck scarf. It was all finished by a brown beret, perched ontop of long blonde hair, pulled into two low pigtails). Charlie was holding her hand, leading her to their mysterious destination. But, in her typical style, Tara was bored and wanted to know _now_.

"_Char-liiiee_," she whined, "Stop being so..." he chuckled, continuing to guide Tara through a series of hallways.

"Almost there, love," he responded, before coming to a sudden stop, "Aha," he grinned at her (which was rather superfluous, considering she couldn't see a bloody thing) and knocked three times on the door.

Tugging Tara over gently, he opened the door and pushed her inside the dark room, untying the blindfold as he went.

Tara stared into the dark, seemingly empty room and cocked an eyebrow.

"I waited for an empty room?" she looked around, her hands clasped behind her back and rocking backwards and forwards from the balls of her feet to her heels, "The least you could've done would be to give me a pony, darn it,"

Charlie rolled his eyes and flicked the lightswitch.

The resulting cheers and shouts were enough to make Tara pass out with the shock.

.1.1.1.1.1.

"_... if she dies, this whole party was __your__ idea, Bourne,"_

"_MY__ idea? I swear, Liu..."_

"_Don't be daft you two. She's fine. Look—_" Tara's eyes fluttered open and she looked up to see a whole group of people crowding around her, worry dancing over their features.

She gave them a wry smile.

"I just made an ass of myself, didn't I?"

"Yup," Frances responded immediately, "But we love you anyway," Tara shot the Asian girl a glare, and held out her hand.

"Someone help me off the floor, yeah?" Charlie's warm hand enveloped hers, and tugged the blonde girl up from the floor, with a little too much force than necessary, sending the girl careening into his chest.

Charlie grinned, wrapping his arms around Tara's waist and planting a kiss on her pouting lips.

"Happy Birthday, Tara," her pout melted away and she grinned.

"Thanks Charlie..." out of the corner of her eyes, Tara made out her friends gagging and miming choking each other, so she turned, still in Charlie's embrace, eyebrow cocked.

"And the next part of this party, ladies?"

A devious grin crossed over Stephanie's features.

"And now, my girl," the auburn haired girl glanced over at her ebony haired partner-in-crime, who shared an equally devious smirk.

"Now, we get shitfaced,"

The partygoers cheered, and Tara couldn't help but laugh,"

"Bring on the booze!"

.1.1.1.1.1.

An hour and four double blacks later, Tara was engaging in drunken singstar with Maddie and an inebriated Frances.

Two and a half hours later (and a whole crate of double blacks, breezers, twists and a bottle of tequila later), Tara, Stephanie, Maddie and Frances were engaging in drunken sing-alongs.

Half an hour later, they were all passed out on the sofa, along with most of the other party-attendees.

.1.1.1.1.1.

When Tara awoke the afternoon after her 19th, she vowed she was never, ever, _ever_ drinking again. Her mouth was furry, her head pounding, her breath _stank_, and her memory was fuzzy at best.

Completely blank at worst.

Admittedly, she had, in fact, consumed less alcohol than her friends, with only a shot and a half of the tequila, as opposed to Frances' four shots, a few double blacks and other vodka cocktails less than Stephanie, and much less champagne than Maddie, but it was enough to make her feel wretchedly ill.

So much that, in fact, her first act was to stumble over the other passed-out attendees, and violently throw up the contents of her stomach into the nearest toilet bowl.

When she finally felt better, she stumbled back to her spot on the sofa and collapsed back into her spot, nestling her head into Charlie's warm chest. He mumbled something in his sleep, but didn't move.

Promptly, the girl went back to sleep.

.1.1.1.1.1.

Five days after Tara's 19th, Christmas Eve fell. Which is why, at this moment, she was seated in the lounge of her apartment, dressed in her dress jeans and a white button up collared shirt, her feet encased in black heels, hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her hair was curled into large ringlets and loosely clipped back behind her, her eyelashes thick and long, her lips glossed, teeth whitened. Over on a stand by the door, hung her coat and her bag, an overnight suitcase resting at its base.

Yes, it was Christmas at Tracy Island.

The knock on the door announced the arrival of Lady Penelope and Parker.

"Ready, Tara dear?" Penelope asked once the door had been opened. Tara bid her friends farewell and immediately followed her mother and Parker to the rolls.

.1.1.1.1.1.

After a warm welcome, Tara, Lady Penelope and Parker settled in for the Tracy family Christmas festivities. Laughing, Tara helped Gordon, Virgil and Alan decorate the Christmas tree, a line of tinsel wrapped around her neck like a feather boa, baubles hanging from her ears (Gordon found "decorate Tara" a whole lot more fun than "decorate the tree". To start with, Tara fought back when he approached her with the fake snow.)

As calmly as he could, Alan ignored his beating heart and helped Tara out of her ornamentation, and the two put it up on the tree, finally declaring it finished.

Tara beamed at him once it was done...

... and threw her arms around his neck in a hug.

Alan's immediate reaction was to stiffen, but as soon as he took a whiff of her subtle vanilla and cinnamon scent, he melted, wrapping his arms around her as he returned her embrace.

Tara pulled back, and looked as though she was about to say something, but her attention was suddenly caught elsewhere. She sniffed.

"Oh!" she pulled back, taking Alan's hand, "C'mon! Grandma's cookies smell _fantastic_!"

As soon as Tara wasn't looking, Alan's shoulders slumped. Maybe Christmas would be harder than he thought.

.1.1.1.1.1.

With a little pleading and the puppydog eyes, Tara and Alan managed to convince Grandma to part with two of her Christmas cookies, Tara grinning and sinking her teeth into the sweet gingerbread and sliding into a bar stool in the kitchen. Alan couldn't help but watch her as she closed her eyes and savoured the sweet biscuit.

When he took the time to glance over at Grandma, she gave him a knowing smile and mouthed the words "_upstairs balcony_" to her youngest grandson.

As soon as Tara had finished, Alan suggested the two get some air, and Tara nodded, wrinkling her nose at the wafting smell of the fake snow that Gordon had generously applied to one of the smaller decorative Christmas trees.

Upstairs, they walked through the glass double doors to the balcony which looked over the Tracy beach.

Tara was the first to notice it.

She glanced up and laughed.

Hearing the tinkling chuckle, Alan turned, his gaze immediately snapping to the source of Tara's amusement.

"Mistletoe," she let a wry smile dance over her lips, "This just screams of Gordon," Alan laughed awkwardly.

_Oh. God._

A silence settled over the two, Tara planting a hand on her hip and cocking her head to the side.

"Well?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "Come on then. Tradition and all that,"

Alan still didn't move.

Letting out a mock-annoyed sigh, Tara closed the distance between them, and planted a soft kiss on Alan's tight lips.

Alan could have sworn he just died. He even thought he heard the angels singing.

And, of course, around the corner, Gordon, Virgil, Parker and Grandma peered.

"Did it work?" Grandma whispered. Gordon nodded, grinning.

"It's only a matter of time now,"

"I 'ope so," Parker responded.

"It won't be long," Virgil agreed.

A delightful pink flush was raised on Tara's cheeks, and she looked up demurely at the blonde boy before her.

"C'mon," she shivered, goosebumps rising on her smooth skin, "It's getting chilly out,"

"Yeah," Alan nodded, watching as she walked back inside. Following her, slowly, Alan realised something:

_Those damn angels hadn't stopped singing_.

* * *

a/n_ - I realised something as I wrote this chapter. There are less than 20 chapters left in Kryptonite._

_Man, that was a shock._

_Anyway, because I'm pressed for time at the moment (think Assessment Tasks that actually count – icky – my prac exam for my teacher-training diploma – gaah – and the usual homework deal – gaaaaaah – I just want to thank all my reviewers. Thanks so much for sticking with me through it all, and I hope you enjoyed the fluffy chapter. _

_Now, if you'll excuse me, LeCoq and Aeneas are calling me... oh hell._

_Much love,_

_The-Flame-Faerie_


	35. Meet the Tracys

_**a/n**__ As I write this, I'm sitting on the front veranda of the villa my family and I are staying in for our "summer" holiday._

_It's fricking freezing, I'm procrastinating my school work, and I'm watching __Phantom of the Opera__ (fifteen minutes ago, it was __Labyrinth_

_And that's another thing I've discovered – I've developed a twisted love for the "antagonists". First Jareth, now Erik._

_Oh dear me :facepalm: _

* * *

**Chapter 35 – **Meet the Tracys

* * *

January was, as usual, bitterly cold. And, of course, there were numerous snow-related rescues.

John was definite that he was going to ignore the next call he got about some idiots being snowed in.

In the Tracy household, it was relatively quiet, with each and every member of the family so exhausted that bickering was pointless, and fifteen hours of sleep all that any of the boys wanted.

Fat chance of that.

"_Calling international rescue... come in international rescue..."_

.1.1.1.1.1.

Tara screamed, immediately spinning around and scowling.

"You sod," Charlie laughed, brushing the snow from his glove-encased hands.

"You love me for it," cerulean eyes narrowed, and waited. Charlie grinned, turning towards the main building.

"Come on, Tars. Last biology lect—" the dirty blond haired man landed face down in the snow, his blonde haired girlfriend happily seated on top of him, smirking.

Charlie, with great difficulty, rolled onto his back and shot her a dark look. Tara kissed the tip of his snow covered nose in response.

"Stop pouting," she let a cheeky grin dance over her lips, "You deserved it and you know it,"

In retaliation, Charlie leaned up and began tickling Tara, rolling over so she was pinned beneath him.

Needless to say, the two appeared half an hour late to their final biology lecture for the week.

When they took their seats, Tara was combing the snow out of her hair with her fingers.

Seconds later, a note appeared on her desk

_**I don't **__**want**__** to know, do I – Maddie**_

Tara grinned.

_Probably not_, she scrawled in response, _But I will say that I got off easy_.

The blonde's gaze flickered up to where her boyfriend was shifting awkwardly in his seat.

_**Easy? The snow through your hair is getting off easy?**_

_Oh, most definitely. Charlie got snow down his pants._

_**... Oh, Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward. You are **__**devious**_

_I try :)_

.1.1.1.1.1.

That weekend, Tara found herself in her mother's sitting room, a cup of hot cocoa nursed between her cold hands.

"Anythin' else I can get ye Miss. Tara?" The girl shook her head, blonde curls bouncing.

"I'm good, thanks Parker," she shot him a warm smile which Parker returned easily.

"So, Tara," Penelope's voice cut in easily, "When do I get to meet this _boyfriend_ of yours?"

"Soon, I suppose..." the girl trailed off, unsure, and knowing her mother wouldn't be satisfied with this.

She was right – Penelope clicked her tongue.

"Well, why don't I set up dinner for us next week and I'll meet him then?"

"I'll have to ask Charlie, but—"

"Excellent! It's settled then. Next Saturday night, we'll have a nice family dinner and we'll meet then,"

Lines creased Tara's brow, but she knew it was pointless to protest.

So, instead, she just settled for sipping her cocoa.

.1.1.1.1.1.

After Tara had left, Penelope sat in her lounge chair, sipping a cup of tea.

Next week she would meet Tara's new beau.

The big question, however, was not "what to serve" or "what to wear", but "should she invite the Tracy family".

'_Effectively, the boys are Tara's extended family,'_ Penelope rationalised, '_Jeff and the boys have been there for Tara through her life. And the boys would want to meet Charlie, if only to get his scent to kill him if he ever hurt her_,'

She sipped her tea.

'_And Jeff is basically the father she never had... It's only fair that the boy meet all of us, just to see what he's in for if he ever shatters Tara's heart_,'

Delicately, Penelope placed her cup on its saucer, and rang for Parker.

"Get me the phone, Parker. I need to place a call to Jeff,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

"... _So what do you think Jeff?"_ The man was silent for a moment, considering the possibilities.

"To be truthful, Penny, I'd like to meet this new boy Tara's become involved with. Just in case," he tapped a finger against his lower lip, "She's quite dear to me, and I don't like the thought of her dating some unknown lad. For all we know he's an unsavoury character..."

Penelope let the tinkling laugh which had been bubbling burst from her lips.

"Of course, Jeff. But you simply _must_ promise me that you won't give the poor boy too much of an interrogation," a grin crossed Jeff's lips.

"Understandable, Penny, and I can assure you that _I_ won't interrogate and intimidate him..." the woman arched an eyebrow, "... I cannot make that promise for my sons, however,"

Penelope shook her head and laughed.

.1.1.1.1.1.

Tara was sprawled across her bed, her arm draped across her eyes, her blonde hair fanned out behind her, and her lips open ever so slightly. She had finally slowed her breathing down and relaxed her muscles after her hard workout. Healthy body, healthy mind, after all. And after the utter chaos of her current medical lessons, she needed all the help she could get. Her mind was finally sifting through the utter anarchy of her thoughts and filing them into order of importance. She was almost at peace.

_Ring_.

The damn shrill tones of her blasted phone snapped the girl from her calm, and immediately, tension and knots seized their places in her sinewy muscles as she jumped from surprise. Removing the arm from her eyes, she toyed with the idea of letting one of her roommates pick it up.

_Ring_

... Then, of course, she recalled just how Frances had taken to answering the phone of late and changed her mind.

The _very last_ thing she needed was her mother to ring, only to be greeted by a cheerful "_Joe's Taxidermy! You snuff 'em, we stuff 'em!"_.

Tara sat up, closing her bright blue eyes tightly as the blood rushed away from her head and her vision filled with white.

_Ring_

Whoever it was on the phone had better have a damn good reason for ringing, she thought bitterly, extending her bare white arm out to pick up the offensive item.

_Ring_

"Hello?" her voice sounded more tired than she remembered it ever being, and had that rough edge to it. Like it hadn't been used in years. The girl winced, raking her fingers through the tangled mess of her long blonde hair.

"_Hey Tari!_" Of course. Only Alan would ring her at the ungodly hour of...

... 5:30 on a Wednesday night.

Oh.

"Hey Al, what's up?"

"_Just had a quick question about Saturday,_"

"Hmm...?"_Saturday?_ As far as Tara was aware she hadn't made any plans with Alan for...

... unless...

'_Oh frick._'

"_Does your boyfriend drink any particular kind of wine? Gordon and I are about to go grab some for the dinner..._" Tara paled.

"Um... Hey, Alan? Can I get back to you?"

"_Sure Tari. You alright?_"

"Me? Oh, fine. I'll call you back in a bit," she hung up, and immediately dialled the Creighton Ward manor.

"_Hello?_"

"Mother," the blonde growled, "any particular _reason_ the Tracy family think they're coming on Saturday?"

"_Well, because they are, Tara. I thought that Charlie might as well meet the whole family. And Jeff was concerned. He didn't like the thought of you going out with someone he hadn't met. Honestly, Tara, I didn't think it would be that big a deal_,"

"_Mother_...!" Tara took a deep breath to steady her breathing, "I'm not happy about this,"

"_And why would that be?"_

"Mother," she let out a heavy sigh, "Mother, Charlie and I are still kind-of... well, new. Meeting the family... the _whole_ family... well, that's a bigger step than I think we're ready for at the moment," She closed her eyes tightly.

Tara's next words were spoken so softly, Penelope nearly missed them entirely.

"_... and I don't want to lose him..."_

"_Tara, if he can't take the whole family, then the boy is not the one for you. Whether he likes it or not, the Tracy family are practically your family. I would like them there. If only for the reason that the boys get his scent, just in case he ever, heaven forbid, breaks your heart,"_

Tara pinched the bridge of her nose, screwing up her face.

"There's no way I can convince you to change your mind...?"

"_No, Tara. Now I expect you and Charlie and 6 p.m. Jeff and the boys are bringing the wine, and we have the food all organised, so the only things that you need to bring are yourself and your delightful boyfriend,"_

"Alright, Mother," Tara sighed out, "We'll see you then,"

Terminating the call, Tara flopped back onto her bed, bouncing slightly on the soft mattress.

She glanced at her phone, pursing her lips and furrowing her brow.

_Fine_.

Tara dialled a number, and the phone was answered after two rings.

"Red wine,"

"_Cheers, Tari... Tara, are you alright?_"

"That, Alan, is a loaded question which I don't think you're ready for," Even with just the audio, Tara could tell that a smile had just crossed Alan's handsome features.

"_Oh yeah? Try me_,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Now, don't try to antagonise any of them..."

"Tara—"

"... If Gordon pulls some sort of prank on you, _just laugh_..."

"Tara—"

"... Don't try to be a smart ass with Jeff. He will be about as amused as Queen Victoria, and probably a whole lot _meaner_..."

"_Tara—"_

"...Don't criticise the air force or the government around Scott. He's not that sort of guy. Don't joke with Scott. In fact, try not to talk to Scott. He'll probably just glare at you a lot," the girl considered this as she fixed up Charlie's shirt, "He does that,"

"_Tara!_" Charlie batted her hands away, "I'll be _fine_. Sweetheart, you're making them seem like they're wild animals or something, and when we get there, they'll be swinging naked from the chandeliers,"

Tara tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"Well, I wouldn't put it past Gordon..."

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Come on boys!" Jeff called from the foot of the stairs, "We've got to get going if we're going to make it to Lady Penelope's on time!"

The staggered calls of "_coming!_" reached the eldest Tracy's ears and he shook his head, laughing.

Sometimes it worried him _just_ how long it took his sons to get ready.

The first down the stairs, of course, was Gordon, wearing a huge grin.

Naturally, Jeff's reaction was, appropriately, to demand he turn out his pockets.

A confiscated whoopee cushion, packet of poprocks, fake blood and laxatives later, Gordon was passed for the dinner.

After Gordon came Scott and Virgil, who came down in conversation, speculating what this "Charlie" would be like.

Scott decided he must have superhuman patience to put up with Tara.

Virgil agreed.

It was, of course, just as Alan came down the stairs that the _infernal beeping_ rang out from Jeff's office.

Almost in unison, the family groaned.

"Well, boys, it seems that we don't get a night off after all," Jeff turned his seat, pressing the exposed button on his desk.

"Go ahead John..."

.1.1.1.1.1.

Tara almost didn't want to knock, but Charlie took her hand and forced her to do so.

She glared coldly at him.

Parker answered the door and Tara shot him a grin.

"Charlie," she said, "This man is Aloysius "Nosey" Parker. Best safe cracker there is, and practically my grandfather. Parker, this is Charlie," the men shook hands firmly, while Tara glanced over the butler's shoulder.

"It's silent," she noted, "Where are the boys?"

"Not comin'," he gave her a small smile, "Seems they 'ad an hemergency they needed te deal with, Miss. Tara,"

Tara fought to keep the grin off her face as she picked up Parker's meaning.

"Ah. Well then," she linked her arm through Charlie's, "Time to meet mother then!"

.1.1.1.1.1.

Tara rested her head on Charlie's shoulder as they drove home that night. Charlie kissed her forehead tenderly.

"Tara," he spoke softly, "Why were you so worried about me meeting the Tracy family?" the blonde sighed.

"To be totally honest, it's because sometimes they can come on strong. And I don't want to lose you if they get too intimidating," Charlie chuckled, kissing her again.

"Sweetheart, you're not going to lose me. I want to meet these boys who are part of your life. And trust me, if I didn't freak out when I met Frances, Stephanie and Maddie, who told me in no certain terms that if I ever broke your heart, Frances had some interesting methods of torture she'd love to try out, I think I can handle them,"

Tara let out another breath and closed her eyes.

"Okay," she finally whispered, "Okay,"

Charlie just pressed a kiss to the top of her head and pulled the car to a gentle stop.

"We're back, Tars," he nudged her tenderly, "You're exhausted after all your stressing. Go upstairs, go to bed and call me in the morning," she laughed lightly.

"Yes doctor," she responded mockingly. Charlie winked.

"I know you will be, but what am I?" the girl groaned.

"Charlie Bourne, that was most possibly the _worst_ comeback I've _ever_ heard,"

* * *

_**a/n**__ Um. Hi? Promise the next chapter will be out sooner than this one was?_

_No seriously, I do. I've written it and everything._

_Thanks once more to all my reviewers – as I said, I'm currently in the middle of my holiday with limited/no internet access, so I can't name names, but I will say that I really appreciate all your kind words of support._

_So please, read and review!_

_Much love,_

_The Flame Faerie_

_P.S. I'm not really happy with this chapter. I think it's because I'm tired and I know that I have a million and one other things I should be doing right now._

_... but English __sucks_


	36. 2,000 Light Years Away

_**a/n**__ Just a warning – the language in this chapter is a reversion – I wrote it back in 2006, and as such it hasn't undergone the evolution I (as well as my writing) have undergone stylistically._

_I'm also going to apologize now for the overuse of the ellipsis. I... was going through a... phase, shall we say...?_

_You have been warned.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 36** - 2,000 Light Years Away

* * *

"So... You going to come?"

The girl on the other line laughed, her blonde curls bouncing with the movement.

"And miss out on your birthday? Come on Alan! Of course I'm coming," she paused, chewing her bottom lip, "If..."

Alan sighed.

"If what...?"

"If I can bring my boyfriend...?" Alan felt a pang in his chest and nodded slowly.

"You sure Tara...?" She grinned, nodding.

"Yeah. I think it's been long enough now. And I'd rather he met just you guys before Mum and Uncle Jeff,"

"If you're sure, then,"

"Thanks Al! I just _know_ you're gonna love Charlie,"

"ALAN! GET OFF THE PHONE!" Scott bellowed from downstairs and the youngest Tracy flinched.

"I'd better get going..."

"I'll see you tomorrow night... OK?"

"See you Tara"

"Bye!"

Alan sighed, raking his fingers through his hair and hanging up the phone.

Gordon leaned against the doorframe and smiled lightly.

"Is Tara coming?" Alan turned, running his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah. And she's bringing her boyfriend, _Charlie_," Gordon's smile faded.

"You alright Al?" Alan nodded half-heartedly.

"Oh!" he looked up, "Kara's coming..." Gordon rolled his eyes, grimacing.

"Oh fan-fucking-tastic,"

- - - - - -

The next morning, Alan awoke sluggishly, finding his brothers circling around his bed.

"Uhh..." Alan rubbed his eyes and sat up, Gordon grinning maniacally.

"Morning Birthday Boy!" Alan just blinked, stifling a yawn.

"... What did you give him?" he eyed Virgil suspiciously who shrugged.

"We're having the first party on the island - without Dad - since Scott hid the coke on his 18th and sent him out to get more..."

"Oh. Okay," Alan swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up, scratching the back of his neck and walking downstairs - his elder brothers in tow.

- - - - - -

At about 5 p.m., Alan's party guests began arriving, starting with...

"Tara!" The girl grinned, running into a hug with Alan. When she pulled back, Alan got a good look at the daughter of the most prominent Lady in England.

Tara was adorned in a tartan mini-skirt, with a white button up blouse, the first 3 buttons undone, showing a tactful amount of cleavage. Her black boots came up to the knee and her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders elegantly. She wore a light amount of makeup, a large silver pair of hoops and a pink and blue cubic zirconia belly bar.

"I figured you guys would need some help setting up," she paused, considering this statement, "...Or Tin-tin would - knowing you 5 you've left all the work to her," Gordon gaped in mock offence.

"Excuse me missy but..."

"Uhh..." At the door, a young man with messy blonde hair cleared his throat and Tara looked over.

"Come on in Char... It's OK..." the boy walked over to Tara and she smiled, turning back to the Tracy boys.

"This is Charlie, guys. Charlie... This is Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon and my personal favourite, the birthday boy and one of my best friends, Alan Tracy..." Alan felt his cheeks burn at Tara's introduction and quietly shook hands with the boy.

"Nice to meet you..."

"Tara!" Tin-tin peeked around the corner of the kitchen and grinned.

"Hey Tin-tin!" her heels clicking on the wooden floor, Tara slipped into the room and began to help Tin-tin prepare snacks.

- - - - - -

"Hey Alan!" A buxom blonde came bouncing up to the birthday boy, throwing her arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his lips.

"Hey Kara..."

"Happy Birthday gorgeous!" Alan smiled lightly, his gaze wandering from his girlfriend's face to the other beautiful blonde girl in the room.

She was talking cheerfully with a group of people and had an arm around her waist...

That_Charlie_ guy's arm...

Feeling his face grow flushed, Alan broke his gaze and looked back down at the girl infront of him.

"Want to go up to your room?" Kara winked slyly and took Alan's hand, leading him over to the stairs. With once last glance in Tara's direction, Alan followed sighing.

- - - - - -

About 10 minutes after Alan's disappearance, Tara looked over to where he had been and frowned.

"Char, did you see where Alan went?" Charlie took a sip of his drink and nodded.

"He went upstairs... Why?" Tara slipped from his grip and smiled.

"I just want to talk to him... that's all..."

She pushed through the crowds and headed upstairs, knocking lightly on Alan's bedroom door.

"Al? You in there?"

She pushed the door ajar and her eyes widened, closing the door quickly and running back downstairs as swiftly as she could manage.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at Tara's shock.

"Everything alright?"

She gulped heavily and nodded.

"Don't go upstairs for about 20 minutes..."

"Why?"

"I'm emotionally and mentally scarred. Now go find me alcohol. I need to destroy my memories,"

Charlie laughed, hugging Tara and kissing her cheek.

"If you insist, M'lady," she shot the boy a dark look.

- - - - - -

The party continued into well through the night and into the next morning - finally winding down at about 5 a.m.

The party goers tiredly left, Charlie included, giving Tara a lingering kiss before boarding the water taxi.

Tara had decided on staying back to help the boys destroy all evidence of that night's activities - just in case Jeff called from Thunderbird 5.

About 2 hours later, they'd gotten the house presentable - they being Tin-tin and Tara - the Tracy boys having retired to bed long ago, Kara with Alan.

"That was too bloody hard..." Tara moaned, gratefully taking the cup of coffee Tin-tin offered her, sipping it and wrapping her hands around the mug, taking in the warmth.

"At least Mr. Tracy won't kill them..." Tin-tin sighed, "Less work for us then," she smirked, "Blood is so hard to get out of the carpet..."

Tara couldn't help but snigger.

"Good Morning!" Gordon kissed the ebony haired girl on the cheek and headed into the cupboards, Tara and Tin-tin exchanging glances.

Soon after, the other boys retreated downstairs, all except the youngest and raided the kitchen for breakfast.

"You two did a good job tidying up..." Virgil said, through a mouthful of cornflakes. Scott looked at him, perturbed.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Virg," Virgil rolled his eyes tiredly and continued shovelling down his cereal.

"I'd better get going home soon. I need slee--" Tara yawned, just as there was a thud of feet on the staircase.

"Hey everyone..." Alan stretched, the muscles on his chest tightening.

"Good morning all!" behind the youngest Tracy, a chirpy blonde grinned, bounding down the stairs in one of Alan's T-shirts.

The boys and Tin-tin gaped, Tara just looking highly amused.

"You're washing your _own_ sheets, Alan Shepherd Tracy!" Tin-Tin sniped and Alan rolled his eyes, not responding.

"Someone must have had fun last night..." the youngest Tracy son looked up and spied Tara leaning back in her chair, hands still wrapped around the coffee mug.

"You're still here Tari?" The girl stuck out her bottom lip.

"Were it not your birthday yesterday, I think I'd slap you for that," The other blonde squealed and raced over throwing her arms around Alan's neck.

"No-one's gonna hurt my Alan!" there was a unison snort through the room.

Alan gave the girl's arms a pat and she let go, turning to face the 6 seated at the table.

"I don't think I've met you before! Are you Alan's sister, or something?" Tara laughed, mid-sip of her coffee, which quickly became a hacking cough.

"No," she managed to get out once she'd settled, "I'm a close friend of the family..."

"Oh!" The girl brightened up.

"I'm Kara Ward! Who're you?"

"I'm Tara Creighton-Ward," Kara gaped.

"Oh my god! That is, like, so weird! I'm like Kara and you're like, Tara! We, like, totally rhyme!" Tara's face was totally vacant.

"And, like, my last name is Ward and yours is, like, Creighton-Ward! We have so much in common!" Tara just blinked.

"Are you Alan's ex or something?" Tara had to hide her smirk with her hand, pretending she had to (rather daintily) wipe her mouth with a napkin.

The elder Tracy boys had amusement dancing over their features. Alan just gave Kara a confused look.

"What would make you think that, Kara?" The girl turned and grinned.

"You have a picture of her and you on your bedside table! I figured it mighta been an ex girlfriend pic..." Tara raised an eyebrow, looking at the youngest blonde Tracy.

"You have a picture of me on your bedside table?"

"It's from your graduation," he explained and Tara nodded slowly, although still highly suspicious.

"And he mentioned you in, like, his, like, Diary..." Gordon snorted.

"You have a diary Alan?" Alan's face flushed several shades of scarlet.

"He did, did he?" Tara stood and smirked.

"Mmmhmm... Like Totally..."

"Really?" She turned on heel and started up the stairs, realisation dawning on Alan.

"NO TARA!" he pushed past Kara and bolted up after her, finding Tara standing in the doorway of his room, her eyes wide and mouth twisted in horror.

"On second thoughts... I don't think I WANT to go in here..." She grimaced, looking at the clothes, bed sheets and other random items strewn around the floor.

"Good," He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked the girl up easily, pulling her away from his room, with minimal resistance - Tara was too tired to even try.

Alan took her downstairs and dropped Tara into her chair in the kitchen, Tara pouting.

"That wasn't fair..." Kara crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her bottom lip.

"Alan... how come you pick her up like that and all I get is a shag?" Tara looked absolutely horrified and had to leave almost immediately after, gagging.

Tin-tin shot Kara a dark look and ran out after her. Gordon and Virgil followed shortly after.

"Tara?"

Tara was seated on a rock by the beach, trying hard not to laugh and just watched the waves lapping against the shore.

"Everything OK?" Tin-tin sat next to her on the beach and Tara nodded looking up.

"Yeah. Just had to get out of there before she gave a blow-by-blow description," the others gave Tara a funny look so she explained, "I walked in on them yesterday. I'm emotionally scarred for the rest of my life," Gordon snorted.

"I hate that girl anyway..." Virgil nodded in agreement.

"She says "like" too much,"

"Like, Totally," Tara looked out over the water and Gordon smiled.

"I think she is just a glorified shag machine. I mean think about it - Alan normally dates _intelligent_ and _gorgeous_ girls, like Tin-tin!" Tin-tin laughed, pulling herself up onto Tara's rock.

"Thanks for the ego boost, Gordon,"

"It's what I'm here for!"

- - - - - -

"She seems nice..." Kara sat down on Alan's lap and Alan stopped eating in a huff.

"I'm glad you like her..."

"So why exactly do you have, like, a picture of her on your, like, bedside table?"

Alan sighed and Kara batted her eyelashes.

"Tara's..." he took a deep breath, "Tara's like my best friend... I mean... I've known her since the day she was born and she's known me all her life... we've looked out for each other..."

"And you're, like, still friends? Even though you've, like, broken up?" Alan blinked, his face vacant.

"Broken up?"

"Well... I just get that vibe... like... you know... like you two were, like, going out at one time..."

Alan shook his head, almost in regret.

"We've always been friends... The picture on my bedside's one she sent me when she started at college... It's the two of us at her high-school graduation..."

Kara nodded, wrapping her arms around Alan's neck.

"Ack! Other people at the breakfast table!" John protested, covering his eyes. Alan shot his elder brother a dark look and Scott rolled his eyes.

"Oh grow up you two," John bolted up the stairs soon after and Scott followed.

Kara, it seemed, ignored them anyway.

"Alan... do you love me?" Alan's attention snapped back to the girl on his lap.

"Why Kar?"

"Because..." The group who'd left appeared back in the doorway, Tara at the lead.

"We're not interrupting, are we...?"

Alan shook his head and Tara grinned, walking over to the lounge and picking up her bag.

"I'd better be getting home... I've gotta get some sleep and then start my essay on the discovery of penicillin..." She grimaced and straightened up, flicking a few stray strands of blonde hair from infront of her eyes.

"How're you getting home?"

"Water Taxi..." Tara blinked, "How else?"

Alan shrugged.

"I thought Parker or Lady P might be picking you up in the yacht..." Tara snorted.

"Yup. Sure Mum would love that. _Oh hello Tara darling – oh look! You're dressed like a prostitute! Good for you! Let's go play a nice game of Polo with my friend the duchess of York and her charming little girls!_ Like I wouldn't get my bloody ass kicked for that, Alan," Tin-tin couldn't help but smile, collecting the plates from the table.

"Where'd Scott and John go?"

"John ran off. Scott followed," Virgil nodded, turning and heading up the staircase to his room.

Gordon just glanced at Kara and ran off.

Tara helped Tin-tin clear the last of the plates and then quickly dialled a water taxi, leaning against the kitchen bench, chatting with Tin-tin.

Still seated at the dining table, the cogs in Kara's brain began to turn and she suddenly leapt of Alan's lap and raced into the kitchen.

"Wait... Creighton-Ward?" Tara looked over and blinked.

"Yeah..."

"Is your mother, like, Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward?" Tara's expression was vacant.

'_It's taken her that long--_'

"Yeah... she is..."

"Like! Oh my gosh! Your mom is, like... So cool!" The blonde teenager resisted the temptation to slam her head against the nearest wall.

"Why didn't you tell me Alan?!" Kara grinned, tossing her hair over her shoulder as Alan walked into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe.

The youngest just shrugged.

"Didn't think you needed to know..." Tara smiled and shook her head, looking up at the clock on the wall.

"I'd better head down to the jetty..." Alan straightened up and let Tara slip past.

"See you soon Tara!" Tin-tin followed her into the lounge room and gave the girl a quick hug, Tara smiling.

"I'm sure you will..." Tin-tin chuckled and waved, heading back into the kitchen.

"I'll come out and wait with you..." Tara gave Alan a puzzled glance, but said nothing, heading over to the door.

"Bye boys!" There was an almighty thudding of feet and the four elder boys appeared at the staircase.

"See you Tara!" The enveloped her in a group hug and Tara smiled.

"Bye Ra-ra!" The smile faded and Tara pouted.

"Don't call me that... _ever_..."

Gordon rolled his eyes and threw his arm over Tara's shoulders, ruffling her hair.

"Cool off Ra-ra..." The girl just glared.

"I'm going down to the marina now..." She turned on heel and stalked off, Alan giving his brothers a reproachful glare and following her out.

- - - - - -

Tara took a seat on a fallen log by the waters edge, turning quickly when she heard a few twigs snap behind her.

"Tari?" She let out a breath of relief.

"Alan... it's only you..." The youngest Tracy slipped through the overhanging plants and took a seat next to her on the log.

"Have a good birthday?" Alan nodded slightly, facing the girl.

"It was alright..." The two fell into a silence, until Tara finally spoke.

"Kara seems nice..." Alan heaved a sigh.

"Bit empty upstairs though..." Tara giggled.

"Mmm..." The roar of a boat motor made the two look up and Tara stood.

"Looks like my ride's here..." Alan nodded, standing and giving Tara an awkward hug.

"Thanks for coming and helping out, Tari..." She grinned.

"No problem, Alan..." She turned to leave, but then stopped herself short.

"Happy Birthday, Al..." She stood tall and gave Alan a kiss on the cheek, before boarding the boat.

Alan stood in shock and Tara waved, the boat pulling from the shore.

_She kissed me..._

_Again..._

He shook the expression from his face and turned, once Tara's boat was out of sight and headed back to the house, confusion and contradicting thoughts running through his mind. His head was somewhere in the clouds, it felt so light on his shoulders.

_She's toying with me... That has to be it..._

_She's playing with my mind..._

Part of Alan firmly believed this, but then there was that lingering voice...

_Oh shut up and enjoy it._

_You know you liked it._

And so, with a goofy smile on his face, Alan returned to the kitchen and the Tracy home.

... And I do mean a _goofy_ smile on his face...

* * *

_**a/n**__ Once again, sorry for the ellipsis use. But I did warn you._

_I know I could have also gone over it and re-written it, but if I __had__, it would've taken longer to update._

_Not to mention, I'm... how do you put it?_

_Ah, that's right:_

_Lazy_

_Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it – I know I'm starting to get a little excited – the action's just about to start heating things up :o)_

_Next chapter: Something important to the finale of __Kryptonite__ is mentioned/introduced. And, guess what? It'll be out this time next week! No kidding!  
_

_Don't miss out!_

_Much love,_

_The Flame Faerie_


	37. Heart to Heart

_**a/n**__ Lookit! Lookit! Look who updated again quickly! Aren't I good? I wrote this in about an hour and a half. Currently, it's 2.40 in the morning. I'm tired. And going to bed. _

_And even better? I lied about updating time, yes, but for, like, the first time ever, I updated early._

_Personally, I think I deserve a medal. Hehe. Read on!  
_

* * *

**Chapter 37 – **Heart to Heart

* * *

Gordon Cooper Tracy was not normally a violent man. But even he had a breaking point. 

And _**she**_, that vacuous _harpy_ that she was, kept pushing him to his limits.

He swore that if he heard that bloody _high pitched_ laugh of annoyingly _demonic proportions_, he would kill her. Eviscerate her himself...

...With a** spoon**.

The man sank lower in seat, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring heatedly at the doorway that the inane hoebag had occupied not ten minutes prior.

"_Oh, Alan! You're so __funny__!"_ There was a giggle, and Gordon's look grew stormier.

Immediately, he leaped from his seat and made for the doorway, knuckles cracking.

To hell with the spoon, he'd just strangle the dim tramp.

Gordon was so caught up in planning exactly how he'd slaughter the asinine..._ass_ that he didn't notice his girlfriend had tactfully grabbed his shoulders and turned him 180 degrees, so he headed out the other door.

Tin-tin rolled her eyes heavenward and let out a low sigh.

She honestly didn't understand _how_ Alan could continue seeing the empty-headed bimbo, Kara.

'_I mean_,' she thought, sinking into the chair Gordon had, only moments before, been seated in, '_rebounding is one thing, but masochism is __quite__ another...'_

.1.1.1.1.1.

"You're the eldest, Scott! Order him to dump her!" the dark haired man frowned at his brother.

"Gordon, you know full well that I can't do that. Alan would just tell me, and I quote directly, to '_Go to hell_'. If Alan's happy with Kara, why won't you just let him stay with her?"

Tin-tin watched her boyfriend, rather amused as he turned an unusual shade of puce.

An explosion was imminent.

_Three..._

_Two..._

_One..._

"_WHY?! I'LL TELL YOU WHY! BECAUSE HE'S __NOT__ HAPPY WITH KARA! SHE'S HIS REBOUND, SCOTT! HE'S __TRYING__ TO GET OVER THE FACT HE'S COMPLETELY INFATUATED WITH SOMEONE ELSE!"_

Scott dug a finger into his ear and winced.

"Okay, okay Gordo," he blinked, pressing a fingertip to his ear, "There's no need to shout. So Alan's _not_ happy with Kara. We can't force him to see that and dump her, and I'm telling you that if I were to ban her from the island or something equally ridiculous, Alan would just keep seeing her to spite me,"

Gordon opened his mouth to retort, but closed it, as if considering this. The lips parted one more time, but again no words were uttered.

Finally, the redhead settled in giving his eldest brother a dark look.

"I hate you, Scott," the darker haired Tracy clutched his heart.

"I'm wounded, Gordo," he pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and swooned melodramatically, "Whatever shall I do?"

"Shut up," and Gordon stomped from the room.

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Hey John...?"

"_What's up, Gordo?"_

"Can you tell Alan to dump his girlfriend?"

"_...Alan has a __girlfriend__?"_

"... oh, nevermind,"

"_No, Gordon wait! Don't hang up. ALAN has a member of the opposite sex after him? I always pegged Alan as more..."_

_"_More what, John?"

_"Well... Into... y'know... guys,"_

"...Goodbye, John,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Come on, Virg! You're the voice of reason. Tell Alan to dump her,"

"Gordon, I hate her as much as you do, but I have the distinct feeling that any interference on our part will only drive them closer together, not further apart,"

Gordon raked his fingers through his hair.

"Virgil, there's gotta be something we can do... I mean, she's a gormless _harlot_!" Virgil laughed, turning the page in his book.

"Have you tried _talking_ to Alan? You'd be surprised what it would achieve,"

"Well,_gee_ Virgil. If I wanted a wussy response like that I would've called Dad,"

Virgil shot him a disarming grin.

"You're welcome, Gordon. Let me know how it works out," Gordon rolled his eyes and wandered off.

.1.1.1.1.1.

"_Tara, darling,"_ the blonde girl lay her head on the desk and covered it with her arms.

"I _know_ that tone of voice, mother. And whatever it is, I'm not doing it!"

.1.1.1.1.1.

"..._I cannot __believe__ you conned me into doing this,"_Tara glared heatedly at her mother. Penelope shot her a dazzling smile.

"I can, Tara dear. Now come along, there have been some lovely lads eyeing you since you came in," Tara's face turned stoic, and her hands curled to fists in the teal satin of her ball gown. Penelope tapped her daughter with her pink fan.

"Stop that, Tara. You'll wrinkle your dress," the Lady glided off onto the dance floor, where immediately the Duke of Kent greeted her with a gentlemanly kiss pressed to her hand.

Behind her, Tara mouthed her mother's last words mockingly and searched out the drinks table.

If she was going to be stuck at this bloody charity ball, she was most_ definitely_ going to make her mother regret forcing her to come along.

(She may have "grown up" since high school, but what could she say? Old habits die hard.)

As elegantly as she could manage, the young woman made her way across the ballroom, dodging couples and conversations, and hoping that her mother's statement of "lads eyeing her since her entrance" was false. Very false.

The moment she hit the alcohol table, she picked up a flute of champagne and took one sip and turned her head to the right.

Immediately, a young lord bowed to her and took her hand in the next waltz.

_Oh. Fuck_.

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Hey, Alan? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Gordon knocked lightly on Alan's open door, and he was immediately beckoned in by the youngest Tracy.

"What's up, Gordo?"

"I want to talk to you about your girlfriend," Alan arched an eyebrow.

"What about Kara?"

Gordon took a seat on Alan's bed and the youngest turned his desk chair to face his brother.

"Well, are you _happy_ with her?"

There was a moment of silence as Alan processed this.

"Um, yes?"

"_Really_ happy?"

"... why wouldn't I be?"

"Don't avoid the question. Alan, are you really, truly happy with your va—uh, _del--_," Gordon paused.

'_Nope, can't lie like that_,'

"Uh, with your _girlfriend_ Kara?"

"I'm not avoiding the question. I've told you, I'm happy with Kara,"

"Truly?"

"Gordon..."

"C'mon Alan. Simple question. Truly happy?"

"Yes!"

"Really truly?"

"Look, Gordon. I don't know what you're hoping to achieve here but I've_ told _you again and again that I'm happy with my girlfriend,"

"But _are_ you?" the second youngest Tracy asked, leaning in towards his brother, "Are you _really?_"

"Yes!" Alan fumed, "I _told_ you. I really like Tara," As soon as the words slipped past Alan's lips, he paled considerably.

Meanwhile, Gordon was grinning like the cat who got the canary.

"AHA!"

"Oh hell," the youngest buried his face in his hands, "Gordon, _why?_"

The redhead shrugged.

"Because someone had to do it, and I hate Kara the most. So why not me, eh?"

Alan shot his brother a dark look.

.1.1.1.1.1.

Tara sank into a chair at the side of the ballroom and rubbed her toes. That was the _third_ bloody ponce who thought he could dance better than reality dictated.

She had _better_ work on her icy glare to scare them off.

... and fast, because it looked like another was fast approaching.

"Hello my lady. May I trouble you for this dance?" Tara frowned.

"Must—"

"She'd love to," Penelope interjected, "Wouldn't you Tara, darling?" Tara stared incredulously at her mother.

"_Where in high heck did __you__ come from?!"_ Penelope responded with an enigmatic smile and pushed her daughter into the waiting Duke's arms.

He pulled her close and the two began to waltz, Tara making a point of looking over her dance partner's shoulder, gazing longingly at the open bar.

"I presume you are the lovely Lady Tara Creighton-Ward, then?" her partner spoke breathily in her ear, and the girl winced.

"You'd presume correctly," she jerked her head backwards, her blonde curls bouncing in their silver clip, "And you might be?"

He had the nerve to look apologetic.

"Forgive me, I was so enamored by your beauty, I forgot myself. I am Theodore Kennilworth, Duke of Royston,"

"How nice," Tara responded, glancing away once more.

"That gown brings out the colour of your eyes, Lady Tara. You look truly gorgeous tonight," the blonde rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, but no thanks," he raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think I follow you," Tara pulled from his arms.

"I'm spoken for," she turned, absentmindedly scratching her bared neck above the diamond choker her mother had given her. Her gaze found her mother's and Penelope gave her daughter a disapproving look. Tara responded in turn with an icy glare.

Penelope's was icier.

"Forgive me for monopolising your time, my Lady," Theodore gave her a curt bow and turned, but the manicured hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"I apologize," she spoke tightly, "It was rude of me. At least allow us to finish this dance,"

He gave her a smile and rested a hand on her waist, pulling her back to him, and lacing his fingers with hers.

The gesture was intimate and not lost on Tara.

She frowned at him.

"You'd best not be getting fresh with me, sir, because Duke or not, I'm not afraid to defend myself from an unwanted advance.

He laughed.

"I'll keep that in mind, my Lady,"

"See that you do,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

By the end of the night, Theodore had stolen five dances from Tara, and the blonde was not pleased.

Especially seeing she had tried to be catty and snide to him the _whole_ night, but it hadn't seemed to deter him in the slightest.

Penelope was speaking with another aristocrat in a low voice while Tara pulled a silver shawl over her bare shoulders, and smoothed her hands down the flaring mid-shin length skirt of her teal gown, the white netting which made the skirt flare glimpsing from beneath it.

Tara sank into a seat while she waited for her mother, rubbing her feet tenderly. The metallic blue-green heels her mother had forced her into were not _exactly_ the most comfortable things to wear.

She stretched her toes and calves as she sat, and looked out over the emptying ballroom.

Unfortunately, her glass(es) of champagne had been long cleared, and the young lady was left with nothing.

Nothing, that is, except the approaching Duke.

"I just thought I'd bid you farewell, my Lady,"

"Mmhmm," he flashed her a warm grin.

"Rest assured, Miss. Creighton-Ward, I will win you over yet," Tara fixed him with an incredulous expression.

"Oh, I highly, _highly_ doubt _that_,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

Alan paced his room nervously.

"I think I need to break up with Kara,"

"_Really?"_ Gordon leapt from his seat, "This is _fantastic_ news! Let's celebrate! I'll go and find Dad's best celebratory booze!"

"Gordon..." the blond spoke warningly, "This isn't a _good_ thing,"

"And why not? You'll be finally free of that damn brainless wench, and I'll be ecstatically happy. What's not good here?"

"Because...!" Alan dragged his fingers through his hair, "Because I started going out with Kara to _get over_ the Tara incident. But... fuck it, Gordon! I'm _not_ over it. If anything, it's _worse_ now!"

"So break up with Kara and do something about "The Tara Incident","

"_It's not __that__ easy!"_

"I bet it is, but you don't want to do anything about it," Alan growled.

"Shut up, Gordon. I'll break it off with Kara, but I expect you to _then_ help me with "The Tara Affair","

"You got it," Gordon rose and immediately left.

Alan stared after his brother, a disturbed look crossing his features.

_Did he just...?_

'_No_,' Alan shook his head at the thought – he must me mistaken.

Gordon _most certainly_ did not just _skip_ out of his room.

_No way._

.1.1.1.1.1.

The day Alan broke up with Kara was immediately written in the Tracy family history as the best day of Gordon's life.

Tin-tin just sat there and shook her head at her boyfriend, who was throwing all his energies into celebrating the disappearance of the "blood-sucking, knob-faced bitch" from his life.

Though, in private, she celebrated just as much as he did.

Now, _maybe_, he and Tara would finally sort everything out.

Because honestly? The sexual tension was getting so thick that you could cut it, spread it on toast and eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

You know, if you _wanted_ to eat sexual tension on toast for every meal, that is.

* * *

_**a/n**__ Again, that's 2.40 in the morning. Bedtime for Flame Faerie._

_Reviews are wonderful and most definitely welcome.  
Special thanks to Aswen, who was the only reviewer of the last chapter :o) It was much appreciated!_

_And now, I bid you all adieu as I slip away to the world of in-between and enjoy my dreams of the Labyrinth._

_Whee!_

_Much love,  
The Flame Faerie_

_**P.S. **Just for fun, **Happy Anniversary** to my brother and his girlfriend :o) Neither read this (thank Heavens)... (though Jen is a fanfic fan...), but I just thought I'd throw it out there anyway. _


	38. Slow Descent

_**a/n**__ For an explanation of why the names have so suddenly changed, please read the authors notes in "Kryptonite: Rocket Man". _

_Just to jog your memory, however, __**Alexia**__ is the new __**Frances**__, __**Dylan**__ is the new __**Stephanie**__, __**Maddie**__ is now known as __**Michelle**__, and the others you don't really need to know._

_

* * *

_**Chapter 38 – **Slow Descent

* * *

"Are you _totally_ sure?"

"Yes,"

"Positive?"

"_Yes,_"

"... definitely?"

"Alexia," Tara growled, "I _don't_ have any twos. _Go-fragging-Fish_,"

The Asian girl laughed, leaning over the pile of cards to ruffle her best friend's blonde mess of curls.

"Getting a bit touchy there, Tara darlin'?"

The snarl from the cerulean-eyed girl was enough of a response.

.1.1.

_I fancy Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward._

_I like Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward._

_I love Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward._

_I'm in love with Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward._

Alan groaned, pressing a pillow into his face as he collapsed onto his bed.

_When_ did it happen?

Okay, no he somewhat knew _when_ it happened. It was more of a "_why_ did this happen" situation.

Of all the possible sadomasochistic things to happen to him, he had to go and fall in love with his best friend who had little beyond platonic feelings for him.

Alan groaned again.

Somewhere up there, God was having a great laugh at his expense. He was probably pointing and laughing too.

Alan decided, at this point, he hated life.

Which was okay, because he was fairly sure life hated him too.

.1.1.

Tara was alone.

Not in the emo, teenage angst sense sense of "I'm so alone, nobody understands me but my livejournal, I'm just going to go and listen to Hawthorne Heights and cut myself" way, but just alone as in, physically, no one else was around.

In other words, the _literal_ sense of the word "alone".

Though, considering what she was about to do, it could probably have been taken in the first sense.

Tara sat in her room (still alone), more specifically on her bed, and leaned over to the bedside table, opening the top draw and removing a small pill bottle.

The girl promised herself, as she had many times before, that this would be the last time.

As she swore that well known vow, she popped open the bottle, and tipped two white capsules onto her flattened palm.

'_I won't do it again. I just need this one more time, and then I'll stop. Just one more time,'_

It was almost a mantra – a mantra that sidled down its well worn path in Tara's memory.

She lifted one to her mouth, slid it between parted lips, and tilted her head back, swallowing.

Then, she lifted the other.

It was this picture that Charlie Bourne walked in on.

"Hey Tars. The front door was unlocked so I..." he trailed off, his face registering the look of horrified guilt on Tara's features.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," the girl tucked the pill into her jean pockets and stuffed the bottle under her pillow, "Nothing at all,"

Charlie didn't believe her for a moment.

"Tara, if it was nothing, you wouldn't be so skittish," his eyes narrowed and he held out a palm, "Show me,"

"God, Charlie, you're my _boyfriend_, not my _mother_. I don't _have_ to show you anything,"

"Tara, just show me whatever you were taking,"

"No. And you have no right to demand for me to do so,"

Charlie's shoulders slumped.

"Okay. I'm sorry. Ready to head out?"

Tara took a few deep breaths, calming down, before she nodded.

"I've just got to run to the bathroom," she uncurled her legs in a distinctly feline manner, and leapt to her feet, padding past the dirty blonde haired boy.

Charlie waited until he heard the door shut, before he moved to Tara's bed, threw back the pillow and took the bottle.

He didn't understand much on the bottle, but four words glared out at him from the label:

_For treatment of Depression_.

Charlie sank onto the blonde's bed, staring at the amber container in his hands.

_Depression_.

He didn't even know.

.1.1.

Tara knew something was wrong the moment she returned from the bathroom and saw her boyfriend seated on her bed.

The sad eyes he gave her were also a dead giveaway.

"What?" she asked, feeling her defences start to rise up, "What's wrong?"

"Tara," Charlie's voice was soft, as though he was trying to be soothing, "I didn't know you were depressed,"

The girl laughed, eyebrows raised.

"Depressed? I'm not," she scoffed, "Where the hell did you get that idea from?"

Charlie held out the bottle of pills, and Tara's stomach sank.

Her defences came roaring back, full force, and demanded she lash out.

"You went through my things?" she snarled, "How _dare_ you!"

"Tara, you don't need to lie to me anymore! It's okay! I'll help you in any way I can!"

"Get out," she pointed to the door, "You unbelievable bastard, I can't believe you went _through my things!"_

"Because I'm worried about you! I want to know what's going on with you! You wouldn't tell me about those pills, and... damnit Tara, I needed to know!"

"No, you _didn't!_" the blonde hissed, "You didn't _need_ to know a thing. And don't try to tell me that. You're doing it because you want to control me!" angry tears welled in bright cobalt eyes, "I can't believe you!"

"Tara, please," he pleaded, "Don't be mad. I didn't do it out of control or spite. I just wanted to know,"

"Did you ever think you'd have been better off _not_ knowing?"

"No, Tara," she sniffed, furiously wiping away her tears.

"Well, maybe you should have. Now get out,"

"Tara, please," Charlie stood before her, gripping her chin and forcing her to face him, "I wanted to know because I care about you. Because I _love_ you,"

She didn't bother to wipe up her tears this time, but just stood, hugging herself while the teardrops cascaded down her cheeks in rivulets.

"Please, Tara, talk to me,"

"I can't," her voice came out in a hoarse whisper, "I... I _can't_,"

"Try, Tars," he led her to her bed, making her sit, "I'll listen,"

She shook her head, blonde falling over her face.

"No, I _can't_. I'm... not ready,"

Charlie sucked in a breath, before letting it out in a long, slow sigh.

"Then I'll wait," he finally replied, brushing the hair from before Tara's bright eyes, "As long as you need, I'll wait until you're ready to talk,"

She nodded, hugging her knees to her chest, before finally her tears shuddered to a halt.

The two sat in silence, until Tara plucked a tissue from the bedside table and wiped at her eyes.

Then, as though pretending nothing had happened, Tara and Charlie left, the pill bottle set on Tara's bedside table, left behind but not forgotten.

Already, something had changed between these two.

Charlie burned to know Tara's secret so shameful she denied it and hid it, while Tara dreaded telling him.

Nobody knew about the addiction. She'd been so cautious in the past – she was so stupid to have believed he'd dropped it…! – and there were few she'd even entertained the idea of telling the tale to in its entirety.

Truth be known, there was only one she thought might be able to help her, but she couldn't bring herself to share it, knowing the disappointment she'd see in his cornflower blue eyes.

And if she couldn't bring herself to tell Alan, then how could she tell Charlie?

.1.1.

Tara avoided Charlie for the next few days, fearful of him raising the issue again. Soon enough, it was Saturday night, and Dylan and Alexia were determined to go out and party like it was 2009 (or however the expression went).

"No thanks, guys, I think I might just stay at home,"

"Suit yourself," Alexia shrugged, "You sure you're not sick?"

"I'm fine," the blonde assured them, "Just tired,"

"Tired," Dylan supplied, or """_Tired_""?"

"Dylan Connelly, I'm entirely sure I don't like whatever you're implying!" the auburn haired girl laughed, ruffling Tara's blonde hair, held in a sloppy ponytail.

"I'm implying nothing your mind isn't going to pick up on, pervert,"

"Dirty old man,"

"Love you too, Tara,"

"Lecher,"

"Children," Alexia leaned against the sofa, "Quite finished?"

"Scankface," Tara shot. Dylan grinned.

"Butthead,"

The two bickering girls began giggling, before Alexia rolled her eyes and shoved Dylan out the door.

"We'll be back later, dearheart," she called over her shoulder, "No wild fornication,"

"Oh, fornicate off!" the blonde shouted just as the door shut.

Tara sighed and sank into the sofa, switching on the television and absentmindedly flicking through the channels.

She wasn't going to think about Charlie, about the pills, about anything.

Not tonight.

She settled on the trashiest movie she could find and leaned into lounge pillows, losing herself in the fantastical world of the illusory.

No Charlie.

No pills.

Nothing.

_Not tonight_.

* * *

_**a/n**__ Again, some of you would be aware that I've been in the process of re-writing the earlier chapters of Kryptonite to make some of the present and upcoming revelations make more sense._

_In these rewrites, I've decided to add more back story to flesh the fiction out a bit more, I've changed some details so that things will be less OOC in the context of the story (think Alan and Tin-tin's breakup), and I've changed character names for various reasons which I can't be bothered to outline now._

_Mainly because I need to go and finish studying for my Latin Extension Higher School Certificate Exam on Wednesday._

_So, in closing, I just want to do the following:_

_1. Thank all my wonderful reviewers who've stuck through and are still here. I know I say this a lot, but after Wednesday, I plan to have more regular updates. I'm so close to the end now, I just want to get this story finished. I'm feeling more motivated, having re-written so many of the earlier chapters, so here's hoping I can get it done._

_2. Let you all know about my oneshot based on the Kryptonite Thunderbirds universe – __Rocket Man__. It's got some cutesy Denial!Tara, Amused!Alan action in it, so yeah. Also, the notes in there will make this whole situation make more sense. I think._

_... maybe._

_3. Ask you to check up the story regularly – particularly the earlier chapters. If there's a title change of the chapter, it's been rewritten, and it would be prudent to go back and re-read the chapter just to make what's coming up make more sense. At this point, I've re-written up to chapter 9, and am in the process of going through Chapter 10. So yeah. Hopefully the narrative will make more sense now, and there will be fewer plotholes. And irrationalities. Like Tara suddenly gaining super strength to move a beam. (man, sometimes I wonder what I was on 3 years ago. Or was it 4 years ago?_

_Hell. It was a long time anyway._

_So, hopefully I'll catch you all soon,_

_xx The Flame Faerie_


	39. Je N'en Connais Pas La Fin

_**a/n**__ Does not own. Except the plot, in all it's hole-filled and convoluted glory. Oh, and Tara's mine too. (She protests this. "Own person" my foot.)_

_

* * *

_**Chapter 39** – Je N'en Connais Pas La Fin

* * *

You would have to be completely blind not to see Alan was moping about something.

He broke up with Kara rather abruptly, and then brooded.

More than was probably healthy.

But, of course, because you would have to be completely blind not to notice Alan was moping, it took over a month for the other members of the Tracy family to notice. And that was after Tin-tin tried to guide them to the conclusion.

With diagrams.

And flashcards.

She even entertained the idea of getting a skywriter, but somehow she thought it would be a giant waste of her money, seeing as she'd get the message: _"ALAN'S NOT HAPPY, WHY DON'T YOU TRY TO HELP HIM"_ written up, and his brothers would still remain blissfully oblivious.

Tin-tin even tried getting a hold of Tara to talk with her about it, _knowing_ the blonde girl was Alan's best friend, and thus that she could do something about it, but Tara was overly jumpy of late. Also, she was swamped with work for her end of semester exams.

Plus, her only advice was "Give him time. Alan will tell someone soon enough what's bothering him, and we'll see what we can do then,"

Which brought us to the present situation – Tin-tin watching Alan skulk around the house, pouting, preparing for his imminent swap with John for the Thunderbird 5 shift.

The moment Alan had left and John returned, the fed up girl finally summoned the entire Tracy family into the lounge room and let fly.

"I'm going to say this _once_ and _once_ only, okay? ALAN IS DEPRESSED. THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH HIM,"

Five male faces stared blankly back at her as only five male faces could.

Tin-tin threw her hands in the air and groaned, stomping out of the room and to her own.

Meanwhile, Virgil leaned over to his second youngest brother.

"Hey Gordon, I think something's wrong with Tin-Tin,"

Gordon nodded sagely.

"PMS. She gets like this once every month,"

The middle Tracy made a small noise of comprehension.

.1.1.

Later that day, Jeff summoned his sons into his study and sat behind his desk, fingers laced together, resting gently upon his chin.

"Boys," he surveyed each one of them gravely, "I'm worried about Alan. I think there might be something wrong with him,"

"Yeah," Virgil nodded, "He's been out of sorts since he broke up with Kara,"

.1.1.

From her spot at the door where she crouched, eavesdropping, Tin-tin didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Mainly because she just didn't understand how they could notice that, and yet only register it _now_.

Or how they could have this conversation so tentatively now when she'd _declared_ Alan's depression to the not 3 hours prior.

_Men_. Even with a lifetime of study, Tin-tin didn't think she'd be able to make sense of them.

.1.1.

"...Well, that could be it," John supplied, "He's broken up with his girlfriend. And either he's feeling sorry for himself because he's lost the woman in his life, or he's depressed because he's finally realised he's gay," Scott pinched the bridge of his nose.

"John, for the _last time_, Alan is not gay,"

"Says you," the blonde shot back.

"John, _shut up_," Gordon groaned.

"You know, de-Nile's not just a river in Egypt..."

"Witty, John. Did you know my fist will soon not _just_ be connected to my wrist, but also to your he—"

"Gordon!" Jeff cut in sharply, "Boys, be serious! This is your _brother_!"

"Dad, I already know what's wrong with Alan," Gordon gestured to the door, "So can I go?"

"No. Not until you let the rest of us in on this little secret," Jeff leaned forward in his seat, "Is it drugs?"

"No, Dad. He's in love,"

Jeff opened his mouth to respond, thought better of it, and closed it again.

He then tried again, with the same result.

After about 5 minutes of the goldfish routine, Jeff finally found his voice.

"Are you _sure_ it's not drugs?"

"Positive. He broke up with Kara because he's in love—"

"—and you made him—" Scott supplied, earning a glare from his auburn haired brother.

"—and now he's just wishing he could be with the girl he likes instead,"

"And he can't?" Gordon shrugged.

"She's oblivious,"

"Ah,"

"So is this where we ask who she is?" Virgil asked tentatively. John murmured something under his breath, which those around were almost sure were the words "_or he_", but seeing as they knew they'd get in trouble for hitting the second eldest brother, and they couldn't be completely certain he'd made _yet another_ insinuation at Alan's supposed homosexuality, they let it go.

Well, mostly.

Gordon glared a bit.

John smirked in response.

"_She_," Gordon emphasised, shooting a dark look at his blonde elder brother, "is none other than our dear young Tara Belle,"

.1.1.

From her spot at the door, Tin-tin's jaw dropped.

I mean, she had _suspected_ there was something there, and the sexual tension between the two _was_ incredible, but...

Well, to have confirmation like that was just...

_Wow_.

.1.1.

Inside the room, everyone sat in shocked silence. Except Gordon, of course, who was preening from his wonderful dramatic revelation.

(He wished he'd had a cape to make it more dramatic. Also swirly.)

"Tara?" Scott squeaked (in an incredibly manly way that in no way reminded anyone of a rodent who got its tail stepped on), "Alan and _Tara_?"

"Well..." Virgil considered it, "Now I think about it, it _was_ pretty obvious..."

"_Pretty_ obvious, Virgil?" Gordon's eyebrows shot to his hairline, "_pretty_ obvious? He'd have been more subtle if he'd had "I FANCY YOU" tattooed across his forehead. In size 72 font. _Underlined_."

Jeff stepped in before his sons began bickering again.

"And how does Tara feel?"

Gordon shrugged once more.

"Can't be completely certain. She has a boyfriend and everything, so I guess Alan's mopey because he likes _her_, but thinks _she_ just sees him as a friend,"

"Which she probably does," Virgil sighed, glancing at his brothers, "Isn't that the way this kind of thing always works out?"

"Oh, don't be so pessimistic, Virg!" John leaned back in his seat, "It's not over yet. And if Alan really _isn't_ gay--"

"He's not. For the very last time, John, Alan likes _girls_," Gordon growled. John continued as though he hadn't heard his brother.

"-- then we just need to give it a chance. Find out how Ra-ra feels about _him_,"

"And is there any way to find out how she feels?"

"We could just ask her...?" Scott supplied. There were a few murmurs of agreement to this.

.1.1.

From behind the door, Tin-tin smacked her forehead against her knees.

Oh yes, that conversation would go down _so_ well.

"_Tara? Do you love Alan?"_  
"_What? Scott, are you high?"_

In other words, that was way number 27 to make Tara close up and refuse to reply.

.1.1.

"Meddling," Virgil suggested, "Lots of meddling,"

"Like how, Virg?"

"I don't know... invite her over and try to subtly guide her to the conclusion she likes Alan? That way if _we_ find out she does, we can help Alan tell her. And if she _doesn't_, well... try to help him get over it?"

"It could work," Jeff considered, his finger tapping against his cheek as he ran through the possibilities, "All we need to do is make sure that we don't make it too obvious..."

.1.1.

Again, Tin-tin didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The day a Tracy boy was _truly_ subtle was the day she woke up a man after being caught in the "reverse Orlando"(1) effect.

If anything, it would probably just be the five of them singing Alan's praises and hoping Tara accidentally slips out with an "I love him!" declaration.

And sure, on whatever planet they were from, that plan worked.

There was just one problem:

This planet was _Earth_.

.1.1.

Tara wasn't suspicious when she was invited over to dinner at Tracy Island.

She wasn't suspicious when she came and everyone greeted her, bar Alan who was up in space.

(FYI, he was still pouting).

She wasn't even suspicious when they """casually""" enquired of her boyfriend.

However, the moment she realised everyone was staring at her (bar Tin-tin who was steadily refilling her wine glass again and again, hoping that she could make the night less mortifying if she was somewhat less than sober), she began to feel just that tiny bit suspicious.

"What?" she asked, her azure eyes darting from each Tracy's face, "Why are you staring?"

The brothers froze, unable to think of a reason. That is, all except the second youngest

"Staring contest!" Gordon cheerfully supplied (Tin-tin drank more, just waiting for the inevitable "Tara-figures-out-what's-going-on-and-the-shit-hits-the-fan" moment), "You blinked, you lost!"

Tara arched a brow.

"All five of you have decided to engage me in a staring contest," she stated flatly. Gordon nodded, grinning.

"And you lost!"

Tara gave the auburn haired boy a funny look, before turning to Jeff.

"Uncle Jeff? What's the _real_ reason you're all staring?"

Jeff sighed, running a hand through his hair. Having had time to come up with a better reason whilst Gordon lied through his teeth, he spoke.

"Tara, we need your help," He figured a half truth was the best way to go with this, "We're worried about Alan," cerulean eyes widened.

"Is he okay? What's wrong? He's not dying or anything is he?" there was a slight waver in her tone, betraying the blonde girl's fear for her friend. No-one noticed, bar Tin-tin.

"Tara, has he said anything to you lately? We think he might be in love,"

Again, if not for Tin-tin paying attention to the teen's mannerisms, no-one at the table would have caught the flash of almost hurt emotion that crossed Tara's features.

"No," she shook her head, "He hasn't said a word – and he would tell me something like that, I'm sure,"

Jeff nodded slowly, before turning back to his meal.

The rest of dinner passed in fairly amicable terms, with Tara leaving after coffee, hugging each of the brothers present warmly, teasing Tin-tin for her tipsy intoxication and a fatherly embrace from Jeff.

As soon as she was gone, Jeff sank down into his seat.

"I thought I understood this whole scenario, but obviously I don't,"

"It _is_ a bit hard to follow," Scott murmured in agreement, seating himself on the sofa, soon joined by Gordon and Virgil. John sprawled himself over an adjacent lounge chair.

"I get it," Tin-tin almost fell into the lounge chair parallel to John, "It's one big chaotic mess of romance,"

"Tin-tin, that doesn't help," the Asian girl shot a dark look at her boyfriend.

"It's simple," she leaned back into the soft leather, "Tara's, we assume, in love with Charlie, and Charlie—"

"Wait, who's Charlie?" the girl let out a small annoyed grunt.

"Honestly, John. Charlie's Tara's boyfriend,"

"Oh. Carry on then," burnt sienna eyes rolled as Tin-tin continued.

"Anyway, Charlie, we also assume loves Tara. But Tara's got less than platonic feelings for Alan, so—"

"How can you tell?" Virgil seemed genuinely curious. The girl sighed.

"Didn't you see the look on her face when Mr. Tracy mentioned Alan being in love?"

The response was five shaking heads. Tin-tin groaned.

"Fine. Just... take my word for it. Tara likes Alan, even if it's just a little bit. Romantically at least,"

"And Alan loves Tara," Tin-tin shrugged.

"Either that, or he's in love with himself,"

There were a few snorts at that comment.

Jeff merely rubbed his temples.

"And tell me then, Tin-tin, how does this end?"

The girl shook her head.

"I don't know. Alan can either do something about his infatuation and tell Tara, which can lead to them either having a happily ever after, or Tara can turn him down and lead to a whole lot of awkwardness..."

"Or Alan can be more like _Alan_," Gordon sighed, "And say nothing, secretly pining away for the girl who doesn't know how he feels about her,"

"Unless Tara makes the first move, Alan's not likely to tell her. And she won't make the first move, because she doesn't know,"

Jeff sank lower in his seat.

"Why do I have the feeling this isn't going to end well?"

"Because it probably isn't," Tin-tin ran her long fingers through her straight dark hair, "I may not know the end – none of us do – but we all know Alan. And he'll crush himself before he says a word, mainly because he'll fear the rejection he'll anticipate in telling her,"

"And Tara's oblivious as hell,"

"Gordon, Language,"

"Yes dad, but really. Tara won't pick up on it. She doesn't do well with subtlety,"

"She picked up on it tonight," John interjected. Tin-tin shot him a scathing look.

"That's because you were all so obvious, you might as well have just asked her if she fancied him,"

There were a few beats of silence, before:

"Think that would have worked?"

Tin-tin let out a loud groan and smacked her right hand over her eyes in frustration.

Only _they_ would ask that.

_Only __them_.

(Meanwhile, up on Thunderbird 5, Alan was still pouting.)

* * *

_**a/n**__ "Je N'en Connais Pas La Fin" – "I did not know the end". Very little to do with the chapter, really, but I love the song, and I'm listening to it right now (the Buckley version). And it kind of has something to do with what happened. Sort of._

_... not really._

_I'm also yawning like mad in exhaustion after finally, FINALLY finishing up my Higher School Certificate._

_I'm not particularly pleased with this chapter, but I did promise I'd update faster and more regularly, so I figure 2 chapters in a week is pretty good from me, all things considered. I might come back and fiddle with this later._

_The next one might take me a bit longer to write, because I need to come up with a bit more backstory for the revelations to make sense, and then I need to __write__ said backstory._

_Thanks again to everyone who took the time to review! I'm grateful you take the time to let me know what you think and I love getting the alerts from to tell me someone's responded. On that thought, I would just like to ask anyone who reads this to review. Even if it's just short, I'd like to know I'm at least on the right track here!_

_10 chapters left before Kryptonite is finished, too. Wow. I might actually get this done before Uni starts._

_Well, catch you on the flip side,_

_xx The Flame Faerie_

_

* * *

_(1)_ Referring to the book "Orlando" by Virginia Woolf, where Orlando, a male, falls asleep one night and wakes up female the next morning. Hense, the "reverse Orlando" effect would be falling asleep female, and waking up with an x chromosome missing, with a tiny Y chromosome left in its place.  
_


	40. Sing for Absolution

_**a/n**__ Man, I'm so sorry this took so long. I've been absolutely __swamped__ with University work [anyone who says uni is easy is lying], and have had no real time to write, other than the birthday harlequins I've been exchanging with some of my BFFs. So I'm sorry guys!! Hopefully you're all still out there and reading. Somewhere._

_On a side note, I would totally jump Gambit if he weren't an animated character from the 1990s. Just quietly._

_

* * *

_**Chapter 40** – Sing for Absolution

* * *

"No wild parties!"

"_Will you __stop__ saying that!_" Tara exclaimed, throwing a pillow in the general direction of her roommates. Dylan laughed.

"Oh, don't be bitter that _we're_ going out whilst _you're_ staying home," she teased, making azure eyes roll.

"Oh yes," the blonde deadpanned, "I'm _so_ jealous you two are going on a blue milk run to Hammersmith. Look at me. Devastated,"

Alexia chuckled, leaning over the lounge back to ruffle her friend's blonde curls.

"We know you are, sexy. See you tomorrow!"

"Seriously," Tara frowned sitting up on her knees, leaning against the back of the sofa to face her friends, "It's Hammersmith. It's, like, two hours away. Why aren't you coming back tonight?"

"Because we wanted a night away from you and your snoring, drooling, sleeping arse,"

"My _sexy_ snoring, drooling, sleeping arse," she shot them a mischievous grin. The auburn haired Dylan rolled her eyes, making Tara frown.

"Dylan, have I told you I really dislike you sometimes?"

"Frequently, honey, _frequently_," she winked in farewell, and the two women left the flat.

.1.1.

Tara contemplated studying for all of twenty minutes as she stared at her pharmacology text, before finally deciding she'd _rather_ have a wild party.

And by that, she meant she was calling Charlie over for sexy time.

Or, at least, that's how the boy was choosing to interpret it.

"_What do you want me to pick up on the way through?"_

"Just yourself," the blonde med student replied, her fingers absently toying with the neck of her pyjama tank, "I'll make dinner, we can watch a movie and… snuggle?"

She could hear the smile as it lit up Charlie's features.

"_Sounds fantastic, Tars. I'll be there in an hour,"_

.1.1.

Tara was stirring the bolognaise sauce when Charlie rang the doorbell. She scooped some onto her wooden spoon, scraping off the excess, before padding over to unlock the apartment door.

The moment Charlie was in eyesight, she held the spoon out. Without a word spoken, the boy's tongue darted out to slide over the surface, moving the meat sauce into his mouth. He rolled it over his tongue for a moment, then swallowed, smiling.

"Where did you learn to cook like that?" he asked, pressing a kiss to the girl's forehead. Tara shrugged, grinning.

"Years of home economics?"

"I thought you failed home economics?"

Tara scowled playfully at her boyfriend, swatting him with the wooden spoon.

"Quiet you," she threw the spoon into the sink, taking another from the utensil drawer, "go and pick a movie. Dinner's almost finished,"

Charlie shrugged off his coat, throwing it over the back of a chair, before kicking off his shoes by the door. Then he padded over to the DVD cupboards, and began rummaging for a film.

Then, film decided upon, he sat back on the sofa and twisted to face his girl.

Tara was drizzling the meat sauce over al dente spaghetti pasta, a look of intense concentration on her pretty features. Charlie smiled fondly, and accepted the bowl as she came over and handed it to him.

"What did you end up choosing?" she asked, settling in beside him.

"_Amant Amantur_," he replied, "I thought you might like the cute romantic comedy,"

"Aww," Tara tapped his nose gently, before using her fork to gather some pasta and shovel it into her mouth.

Smiling fondly, Charlie followed suit.

.1.1.

"_Belle? Honey, it's time,"_

"_Coming, Mama," Looking down at the table, Belle gently shut her notebook. Then, she gathered the skirts of her wedding gown, and left_.

The end of the film had found Tara snuggled firmly into Charlie's side, fingers curled over the soft warm fabric of his sweatshirt, his arm draped lazily over her shoulders.

She waited for the credits to firmly start, before dragging herself out of the relative comfort and warmth of her boyfriend's side, switching the film off.

"What do you want to do now?" she asked, returning to the sofa, resting her chin on his chest, azure eyes flickering up to meet with hazel.

"Let's talk," Charlie wrapped his arms around Tara's lithe waist.

"'bout what?"

"Just... talk,"

There was a moment of silence as Charlie considered breaching the topic he had been almost burning to ask.

The elephant in the room began considering whether or not it should dye itself pink, throw on a tutu, and dance the nutcracker before either would acknowledge it.

Each moment the silence continued, Tara began to tense further. She knew what was coming.

She hoped she was wrong.

Each second that ticked past wound her tighter and tighter, past the point of calm response.

"Tara, tell me about the pills,"

And the girl's temper exploded.

"God," she snarled, pushing out of Charlie's warm embrace, "Can't you just _drop_ it?"

"What the hell?" clearly Charlie didn't understand, "Why are you getting so defensive?"

"Why can't you just _drop_ this whole damn thing? It _doesn't matter_, Charlie!"

"Clearly it _does_ matter!" he exclaimed, "Look at you! Why are you getting so defensive about this? If it's nothing, then just _tell me_!"

Tara stood, literally shuddering in rage.

"Get out, Charlie. I don't answer to you,"

"No," he seethed in response, "You _do_ Tara. If you want this relationship to work, then you'll sit down and _tell me what the hell is going on with you!_ This relationship can't work if you constantly refuse to open up to me!"

"If _I_ want this relationship to work?" the blonde growled, "That's rich, coming from you! You, who are _so fucking determined_ to control me and to control everything I do! I need space to breathe, _Charles_, I don't need you to smother me and try to control my life! I'm your _girlfriend_, not your _slave_, and if you don't step-the-fuck-back, I won't even be the _former_!"

Charlie recoiled.

"Is that really what you want, Tara? To break up with me because I _care_?! Are you _that_ fucking neurotic that you're going to break up with me over _this_?!" he crossed the floor of the flat, grabbing the blonde by her forearms, as if he hoped to shake some sense into her, "_Tell me what the hell is going on with you!_"

"Let. Me. Go," Tara hissed through clenched teeth.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong with you," his fingers dug further into her soft flesh.

Tara's voice dropped to an almost bestial snarl.

"Let. Me. Go,"

"Tara, please," his voice softened, "I _love_ you. I want to help you,"

"I don't _need_ help," she spat, "Particularly not from you. So let me the fuck go, _right now_, Charles,"

The two stared at each other in tense, furious silence, before Charlie released his grip.

"I'll be back tomorrow. You need time to think," he grabbed his jacket, shucked on his shoes, and stormed out.

The slamming of the door echoed around the otherwise silent apartment.

It took some time for Tara to soothe the blood pounding in her temples, but once she had, the girl unclenched her fists, and shuffled into her room.

Without a word spoken, she fell onto her bed, staring at the white ceiling.

It wasn't that she didn't _want_ to tell Charlie – nor was it that she wanted to break up with him, it was just...

_She..._

_She couldn't._

Talking to him about it was only going to bring everything back, and she wasn't ready to let him see the dark part of her life that spawned her taking the pills.

He wanted to know everything.

"Everything" just wasn't something she could give _him_.

She groped lazily for her watch on her bedside table, and snatched it up in long fingers.

Then, she pressed a button on the side and waited.

Mere seconds later, the watchglass slid, and a face dissolved onto it.

"_What's up, Tari?_"

A small smile tugged at her lips.

Everything wasn't something she could give Charlie, but deep within her heart, she knew that if Alan asked it of her, she'd tell him.

She _would_ tell him.

_Everything_.

Ten miles away, Charlie Bourne looked up at the night sky and sighed.

He loved her, he really did, but he was beginning to think she was never going to tell him.

Tara had one more chance. Tomorrow.

If he left the flat still not knowing the depths of her secret, then...

He closed his eyes momentarily.

He'd cross that when he came to it.

.1.1.

When Tara rang off with Alan, she rested her head on her crossed forearms and sighed.

Then, slowly, she rose, and made her way to her desk.

She picked up a piece of lined paper and a pen, pressing the end to her lips.

She took a deep breath, and pressed pen to paper.

She wasn't ready for this – she knew she wasn't – but she knew she had to try.

**_Dear Charlie…_**

Thousands of miles away, up on Thunderbird 5, Alan leaned back in his seat, fresh from his call with Tara.

His heart beat painfully in his chest, as it always did lately when he spoke with her.

That was it.

He was done with this.

Cornflower blue eyes closed as he rose slowly from the chair by the communications array and sluggishly made his way towards his bunk.

Next time they spoke, Alan would tell her.

Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward would know he loved her.

He just hoped she could take that.

And even more fervently, he hoped she felt the same.

* * *

_**a/n**__ This chapter really was just me attempting to fill in the last few steps before the next big event in the Kryptonite universe._

_I'm so sorry you've all had to wait so long for such a disappointing chapter – I'm not happy with it, as it is._

_I've rewritten up to chapter 13, and I'm part way through my retrolling of Chapter 13, but I have been absolutely swamped with uni work. The only reason I have any time to write at the moment is due to the fact I'm on mid-year break, I'm in bed, sick, and I've not been murdered by the release of exam results yet._

_But, considering that calculus exam, I'm dead in two days when they start being released._

_Anyway, I'll do my utmost to get Chapter 41 out before the end of the month. Preferrably even the end of the week/fortnight._

_I'm even going to go and write part of it __right__. __now__._

_Thank you to all of you who've stuck it through, and who have set me polite reviews asking if I would return._

_I promise you all, even if it takes me another… eurgh. __**4 years**__, I __will__ be finishing Kryptonite. I've come so far, worked so hard, and written at least 5 of the remaining 9 chapters. Just not the __**next**__ five._

_xx The Flame Faerie_


	41. Black Balloon

_**a/n**__ I wasn't going to release this chapter until I'd built the basis back into the original story – sadly, I just kind of want to get this done, and I feel bad enough for making all of you wait so long for such meaningless chapters, so I'm going to have to release it without the majority of the support files to go with it._

_I'll get the support out, ASAP, so do keep an eye on the early chapters of Kryptonite for me, please? I promise that eventually, they'll make this all make sense._

_

* * *

_**Chapter 41** – Black Balloon

* * *

The next morning, Tara awoke slowly, sluggishly arching her back and stretching her limbs, before padding out to make herself a simple cinnamon toast breakfast whilst scanning the newspaper with mediocre interest.

Then, in a moment of almost strange glee, she decided she needed to take a walk.

A long walk.

A _very_ long walk.

Via the local heated pool, she decided.

Today would be a day of recharging herself through exercise, and of the expulsion of guilt by working off the alcohol and pop tarts.

So, in what seemed like almost no time at all, Tara threw on some track pants, a tank top, and a jacket, stuffing a towel and her swimwear into a tote bag, her feet into sneakers, and her hair into a sloppy ponytail.

She let the door of the flat shut with single-minded finality and left.

.1.1.

A little after midday, Charlie arrived at the flat.

He knocked, at first, but assume Tara was in her room, sulking and refusing to see him.

The boy dragged a hand down his face, and sighed.

"Fine, Tara, if you want to act juvenile," he muttered, crouching to feel under the welcome mat for the spare key, a scowl settling on his features.

Said scowl deepened when his search proved fruitless.

Not one to be disheartened at this, Charlie continued scouting each crevice and potential hiding place at Tara's front door, only stopping once his fingers closed over the unmistakeable cool steel of the front door key.

He jammed said key into the lock, and turned it, hearing the mechanism unlatch and bear him entry with an echoing click.

"Tara, I'm here," he called into the still flat, shutting the door behind him and palming the key, "I don't care if you don't want to speak to me," he made for Tara's bedroom, "the point stands that we..."

Charlie's words died off as he realized the silence wasn't because Tara was sulking – it was because she wasn't _home_.

Normally, before this all started, this would have made Charlie leave, however, now...

Well, Tara was right about one thing – now he _didn't_ trust her.

And this gave him the perfect opportunity to find out exactly what she was hiding.

His first act was to search for the little white bottle of small white pills.

What started this whole fight.

Even if he couldn't find out the truth, he could take those. Maybe that would make her tell him.

Maybe that would make her better.

Charlie moved toward Tara's desk, knowing the desk drawers, as disorganized as they were, would be the perfectly place for her to hide something like that. He sat at the chair, dark eyes scanning the surface of the wood for some sign.

What he found surprised him.

A letter.

Or, more specifically, a white envelope.

_Charlie Bourne_

A white envelope, addressed to him.

That made it alright for him to read...

… right?

_Dear Charlie,_

_You're mad at me. You want to know the truth. You're worried – I get that – but I just wish..._

_I just wish you'd understand that I'm not ready to tell you. Not right now._

_So, I'm writing this letter, in the hopes I'll be strong enough to give it to you, so you can understand._

_In all honesty, I'm half expecting this letter will end up stuffed in my desk drawers long before I see you next, because yet another time I'll lose my nerve before telling someone the truth of what happened to me over the last five years._

_Yes._

_Five._

_To start with, it all began when I was fourteen. That was the first year I picked up a cigarette, and started smoking. I was tired of being the kid who got picked on by the headmistress because of who my mother was. The other egocentric bitches at Thorntree assumed that because of who I was, my life was easy – that I was swimming in money. Either that, or they scorned me for being illegitimate. What they never realized was the fact my mother had the barest contact with me she could manage._

_But that's not what this is about._

_I started smoking to try and fit in with a "cooler" crowd than my own – I thought I needed that. I kept up the habit for a year, only finally stopping when I realized what I was doing to myself, and when I became better friends with Jennifer James – an asthmatic._

_The point is, that was hard, because I'd become addicted. In such a short space of time, I'd developed an addition to cigarettes. Later, it was drinking, then other things I'm not so proud of. I should have known then that I had what was clinically known as "an addictive personality"._

_Having met my father, I think I can now understand where it came from._

_A little while after that, I met Joshua McMahon. A mistake if I've ever made one._

_Long story short, we ended badly. He left me with a lot of issues, and in hospital. Nobody realized how deeply those issues ran, until I had myself readmitted to hospital with anorexia and depression._

_Which leads me to the pills._

_My doctor, now the wife of my supervisor, Doctor Henderson, as she was then known, prescribed me antidepressants._

_Not knowing of my past tangles with smoking and substance abuse, she assumed I'd take them for a short time, I'd be helped to work through my depression, and then I'd be able to function again as a "normal" member of society._

_But, like a predictable bad story, that went south._

_God, this letter feels like an AA confession._

"_Hi, y'all, I'm Tara Creighton-Ward, and I'm addicted to antidepressants."_

_I've gotten better – I don't take them as much anymore, but I guess that's not the point, is it?_

_The point is I __do__ take them._

_I have a problem. A problem that—_

"What the hell are you doing here?" there was the distinct sound of a bag hitting the floor, and Charlie's head snapped to the doorway.

It seemed Tara was back.

_And Tara was pissed_.

"How the hell did you get in here?"

"The...key," Charlie's expression was pained, "Tara," he took a step toward her, "Why did you never tell me any of this?"

Azure eyes flickered to the papers in his hand, and immediately, Tara's face became void of emotion.

"Get out,"

"Tara, no. I'm... I want to help you,"

"Get out," she pointed at the door, "Now,"

"No, Tara," Charlie put the letter on the table and stepped toward the blonde, "I'm glad I read it. Now we can move forward, _together_,"

A sad smile passed briefly over Tara's features, but it was gone as soon as it came. She shook her head.

"We can't. Once more, you've violated my trust, Charles. That's it. That's the end. Get out," she pulled herself from his grasp, "We're through,"

"Tara, you don't mean—"

"I mean it," she turned away from him, "I don't think I ever want to see you again,"

Tara took her watch from her bedside, and went straight for the main bathroom of the apartment.

She shut the door, and slowly sank to the floor, surprisingly void of tears or emotion.

She waited, in silence, for the sound of the front door's close.

The blonde heard it open, heard the pause, heard Charlie sigh, and then heard him leave for the last time.

Just like that, Charlie Bourne was gone.

She pulled her knees to her chest, and finally, she the dams holding in her tears shattered, and Tara cried.

.1.1.

What seemed like hours later, the salty tears began to dry, crusting the soft skin of Tara's cheeks with faint trails of her pain and anguish, sadness and anger.

She clutched her watch so tightly, the metal began digging into her palms, until finally, she called for Alan.

What she needed now was a hug from her best friend.

Failing that, she'd just have to talk to him, knowing he'd hug her if he could.

.1.1.

Alan swore his heart almost stopped as he saw who was ringing.

_Tara Belle_.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep, slow breath through his nose, releasing it as a heavy sigh.

It was time.

He wasn't ready, but...

The youngest Tracy pressed the combination of keys to answer the call.

When cornflower blue eyes fluttered open, they were immediately greeted with the sight of a nineteen year old in pain. Tara's hair was mussed, her eyes bloodshot and swollen, her nose red and her cheeks flushed.

Part of him was relieved he couldn't tell her now – not when she was in such obvious distress – but another part of him, the more realistic part of him, sank in disappointment.

It would just be one excuse after the next now. She looks too tired, she looks too sad – too happy, too sick, too studious, too beautiful for him to tell her.

It would be like a snowball effect. One excuse would build until finally he'd lost her, irretrievably.

Alan shook the thoughts from his head. He needed to focus in the here and now – she needed him.

And damn it all if he wasn't going to be there for her to dry her tears as she cried.

"What's happened, Tari?" he asked, keeping his tone soothing. Tara sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve, seeming to try to gather herself for conversation.

"Charlie and I broke up,"

A small part of Alan was elated by this news, and seemed to ask the rest of him if it would be too insensitive to start singing "ding dong the wanker's dead" at the top of it's lungs, before being quickly smothered by more sensible, caring part of Alan, which was only mildly elated by the news, and worked harder to control its elation in order to soothe the blonde in distress.

"Oh, Tari. Mind me asking how come?"

"He shat all over my trust," she sniffed, wiping away the dried tear tracks with the sleeve of her jacket. Alan let out a small laugh.

"He did what?"

"He broke into my flat, read something I wasn't ready for him to read about, and proved to me he didn't trust me, because he wouldn't drop the thing about the pills,"

Alan's face became somber.

"What pills, Tara," It wasn't even a question.

Bloodshot azure met grave cornflower. Tara sniffed again.

"This... maybe this should wait until you come back,"

"Tara Belle..."

"Alan, I… I need to figure out what I'm going to say. Come and see me when you get back. I don't..." fresh tears trailed down her cheeks, "I can't tell you. Not like this,"

She buried her head in her knees, and Alan swore the pain in his heart increased tenfold. He nodded slowly.

"Okay, Tari… Okay"'

.1.1.

When Alan came over after his shift up on Thunderbird 5, Tara took him out to the local park, where the two sat on a bench and watched the children play on the equipment nearby.

There, uninterrupted, Tara confessed the whole saga to him, and Alan's heart ached.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, never wanting her to feel the need for any of that again – wishing that she could feel safe in his embrace.

She cried it out, in his arms, until finally the tears stopped.

He held her, right up until she stopped shaking, and her breathing settled once more.

Then, when she pulled back, he asked one thing.

"Please, Tari, don't do this to yourself again,"

The tears gone, she nodded slowly.

She wouldn't.

Not again.

Just for him.

.1.1.

"Where _has_ that Tara Belle gotten to?" Alexia asked, lazily tossing a stress toy from arm to arm. Dylan shrugged, unseen, in the kitchen behind her.

"She went out with that friend of hers – Alan – a few hours ago. Hasn't come back yet,"

Alexia shifted so the auburn haired girl was in her line of sight.

"Hey, Dylbot, reckon Tara's got a thing for him?"

Again, Dylan shrugged.

"She'd have told us if she did," the girl replied, waving her spoon dipped in chocolate sauce at her Asian friend, "Have you heard something I haven't?"

"No, no," Alexia replied with a small sigh, "just suspicious, is all,"

"Well, okay," Dylan licked the last of the sauce off her spoon, throwing it in the sink, and resealing the bottle, "But I don't think she does. Otherwise we'd know, right? Or, at least, _someone_ would know..."

.1.1.

"I can't believe I missed it," Tin-tin moaned, pacing the length of her boyfriend's bedroom, hands dragging down her face, "It's so... so..."

"Obvious?"

"Shut up, Gordon, but _yes_ – it's blatant! How could _anyone_ miss it?"

"Because they're as thick as a brick made in Thicksville, USA," he suggested with a grin.

The Asian woman shot him a glance torn between amusement and annoyance.

"I hope you're not talking about me, boyfriend,"

Gordon, seeming to realize his faux-pas shook his head furiously.

"Oh no, lovely, beautiful, amazing, wonderful Tin-tin beloved," he threw out quickly, "Not you, _never_ you, precious,"

She laughed lightly, falling onto the bed beside her redheaded boy. Her face sobered once more.

"But really, how did I miss it? No sooner has he come back, than he goes rushing off to comfort her about something. He'd probably be more subtle if he tattooed "_**I KIND OF FREAKING LOVE YOU**_" on his forehead,"

Anybody who knew Gordon Tracy knew that he was born with a particularly overactive imagination.

Gordon Tracy should therefore not be presented with a scenario that suggests, or even requires any amount of imagination, for Gordon Tracy's imagination will start with one element of this, and not stop until his cerebrum explodes with possibilities.

It is this reason, that one Tin-tin Kyrano found herself seated beside a madly laughing man as he imagined his brother with such a blatant tattoo, in a black leather vest, his arms similarly inked with declarations of love, as was his t-shirt, the shaved text in his hair cut, and the oversized necklace around his neck.

Tin-tin, however, not having been born with magical powers of telepathy was unaware of this image burned in her boyfriend's brain, and, instead, was just being confronted by the insanely cackling red head.

Not for the first time, Tin-tin turned her dark eyes skyward, and asked who the hell she'd pissed off up there to give her such a mental boyfriend.

Judging from the depths of his insanity at that moment, she'd have to say _a lot_ of deities.

Tin-tin leaned over and whacked her boyfriend upside the head, just as Gordon turned puce from the laughter.

Then, she leaned back, and offered a silent apology to whichever being above she'd annoyed so furiously, and asked that maybe his laughing fits could be kept to a minimum from then on...?

Even as she thought it, Tin-tin inwardly snorted.

Yeah, right.

The day Gordon could keep his insanity in check would be the day Scott would willingly let Alan fly Thunderbird 1 without the threat of waxing and polishing the Thunderbird with a toothbrush.


	42. You're So Damn Hot

_**a/n**__ Author has been busy studying for her med school admissions exam._

_Author has also lost all inspiration to write. Despite the fact she exists in a f*cking soap opera._

_Author begs forgiveness._

_On the home stretch now, guys._

_

* * *

_**Chapter 42 - **You're So Damn Hot

* * *

"Aww, honeybunches, come on. Come party with us,"

"Oh, Lex, as much as I'd _love_ to, the idea of sitting at home, and plucking out my fingernails one by one seems more fun!"

From her spot in her bedroom, Dylan snorted loudly.

Alexia chose to ignore her and instead focused on continuing to annoy Tara.

"C'mon, Tara! Just _one_ night! _One night_ of drunken debauchery with us," she jutted out her bottom lip, "Pwease?"

"The babyfaced puppy eyes aren't becoming on you," the blonde deadpanned in response. Alexia sniffed haughtily.

"Bitch, _please_," she huffed, "I'm all _about_ the puppy eyes. I _own_ the puppy eyes. Every time someone uses them, they have to pay me royalties. It's my—"

"If I go, will you shut up?"

Alexia looked as though all her Christmases had come at once. Immediately, she leaped off Tara's bed, throwing herself out the door.

Tara watched in almost amusement, giving up on listening to the garbled call of her roommate which, she was sure, was something akin to: "You can't take it back now, I'm not listening!"

Not for the first time, Tara asked herself why she was friends with these weirdoes.

Then, she sighed, and got up, setting out at making herself look halfway passable for the night.

Black knee-high boots, and dress which could only be described as a "little black dress" later, she fluffed her hair, going for the "sex messy" look, brushed just enough makeup over her azure eyes to go for smoky bedroom eyes, and she grabbed her clutch and left with her friends.

.1.1.

"Okay, now, people are going to try to hit on you tonight, Tara B. Are you okay with that?"

"Dylan, I'm not socially retarded, I've just broken up with my boyfriend. I'm well aware of how to deal with dropkicks hitting on me,"

Dylan and Alexia exchanged eyerolls, which Tara caught and responded to with one of her own.

.1.1.

The first lad who decided to try his hand at chatting up the blonde aristocrat came when Dylan was off buying drinks, and Alexia was, to put it mildly, grinding with someone on the dancefloor.

He swaggered up, and slid into the seat beside the blonde, who turned to him with arched brows.

"Hey, if you were a monopoly piece, you'd be Park Avenue,"

"Do not pass go. Do not collect £200," came the drawled response.

.1.1.

The second came about an hour later, when Dylan _and_ Alexia were grinding with people on the dancefloor, and Tara was finishing up a vodka and lemonade.

"So," he leaned in closer, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal twig-like arms and pasty skin, "I just got out. Of prison,"

Tara incredulously raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, _you_ just got out of prison?"

The man opposite her nodded, and opened his mouth to continue, but she cut in.

"You. With all your teeth in tact. And a lack of tattoos marking you as Bubba's bitch. Honey, you wouldn't last _ten minutes_ in prison,"

.1.1.

The next lad who fancied he'd bring the blonde out of her boredom spent a good fifteen minutes staring at her from the bar, attempting to either initiate "eyesex", or a coy game of cat and mouse.

Instead, seeing that she was failing to pay him _any_ interest whatsoever, he polished off his drink, and began to strut his stuff over to her.

"Hey baby," he said, sliding in beside her, "I'm milk. I'll do your body good,"

Tara laughed him off the table and away from her.

.1.1.

Dylan and Alexia were present for the next one.

Tara watched the brown ringleted lad approach their table, and looked up at him as he cleared his throat to gather her attention.

(1)"You're so hot, you denature my enzymes,"

Tara stared at him for a moment, before she began to gather her gear.

"I'm going home with this one," she said, by way of explanation to her friends.

Dylan snorted, shoving the blonde back into her seat.

"No,"

"But—"

"No," Alexia threw in, shooing the boy away, "No, you are not,"

Tara crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.

"Worst. Wingmen. Ever," she replied, poking her tongue out at the two.

.1.1.

About a month after that night, Tara awoke to stare at her white ceiling, a small frown on her dainty features.

"Frick me," she murmured, rolling over to face her window, "I'm twenty,"

As if those two words were a signal, Tara's two roommates bounded into her bedroom, jumping onto the blonde's bed with almost childlike glee.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY BITCHPRAT!" Alexia crowed, bouncing on her knees to where the girl lay, "You're old!"

"You're older than me!" Tara retorted. Dylan grinned.

"Like that matters," she sat with her legs crossed at the foot of the bed, "What are the plans for today?"

"Bearing in mind that your party is tonight, sexy legs,"

"Alexia, you are varying forms of creepy as all hell," the girl sat up to face Dylan, "I don't want to do much before tonight. I would've liked to go back to sleep, but I don't think you'll let me,"

"Nope!"

"Okay," she kicked off the blankets, throwing her legs over the side of the bed, "In that case, I'm going to my mother's place. To go back to sleep,"

"Spoilsport," the Asian girl pouted, "You're no fun,"

"I'm _loads_ of fun," Tara grinned cheekily, "You're just a git,"

.1.1.

Tara was brushing her teeth when her watch bleeped.

She couldn't control the grin that crept over her features.

"_Happy Birthday Tari!"_

"Thanks Alan," she spat out her mouthful of toothpaste, "Are you still coming along tonight?"

"_Wild horses couldn't keep me away,"_

"Now, see, now that you've said that, you're going to have some idiot trapped in a cave with wild, rabid horses that you have to rescue,"

"_Gordon can do it,"_

"I think Uncle Jeff would prefer _you_ handled that one, Al," even without looking, Tara knew Alan was pouting.

"_Besides, I don't think wild horses live in caves,"_

"They do in the Tara Creighton-Ward version of reality," she wiped down her mouth, before tugging out a length of floss, "Which I personally believe is the greatest kind of reality,"

"_Is it like a marijuana induced hallucination?"_

"Alan Shepard Tracy!" the girl tugged the floss from between her teeth, sounding scandalized, "I wouldn't know what a marijuana induced hallucination was like! And nor should you!"

"_Right, Tari," _Alan laughed warmly, "_Sure you don't_,"

"Holy crap," the blonde grumbled, "First my roommates, then you. I need new friends, because you guys _suck_,"

"_You could never find someone to replace me. You love me too much,"_

"Shut up, dickface,"

"_I love you too_,"

.1.1.

The music was loud, the club was jumping, and Tara could honestly say that she was having fun.

Well, _mostly_.

There were only so many times you could have someone grind into you to "Riverside" before you just needed to step off the dancefloor and grab a drink.

"Midori and Lemonade," Tara called over the bass to the bartender, who gave her a quick nod and turned to the bottles behind him.

A hand rested on the small of the blonde's back, on the exposed skin between where her slinky silver shirt ended and her lowriding jeans began. She span quickly, prepared to defend herself from another oncoming sleaze, but her protests died in her throat at the sight.

Instead, a grin crossed her pretty features.

"Alan!" she threw her arms around the blond man, holding him close.

(Alan tried not to focus on the soft scent of cinnamon and vanilla that tantalized his nose, or the feeling of her pressed against him)

He hugged her as warmly (and platonically) as he could manage.

"You made it!" Tara beamed.

"Of course I did," he called back, "I promised you I would,"

The bartender returned, and Tara moved to pay for her drink, but Alan got there first, before swiping it up and taking a sip.

He pulled a face.

"Midori and lemonade?" he grimaced, "You get drunk like a sixteen year old girl,"

"Do not," the blonde countered, "And I'd be allowed to, anyway. Besides, beer is disgusting,"

"It is not. It's a manly drink,"

"Then why do you drink it?" she teased. Alan opened his mouth to retort, but closed it with a snap. He laughed.

"Touche,"

_The Champs-Élysées is a busy street. We gettin' down with everyone we meet  
If you understand, then listen to me - Si'l vous plait ma cherie allez tombez la chemise!_

"Oh, I love this song!" Tara knocked back her drink quickly, slamming the glass down on the counter. She swayed in her heels for a moment as the alcohol pulsed through her system, before grabbing Alan's hand a dragging him onto the dancefloor.

Alan, for his part, grit his teeth and tried to pretend he didn't want to take the girl moving against him in his arms and snog her senseless.

.1.1.

"Well, that's something I didn't expect to see," Alexia leaned against the bar beside Dylan. The auburn haired woman turned to face the same direction as her roommate.

"What?"

"Tara Belle and Alan. I mean, I guess I had my suspicions, but… wow,"

Dylan's emerald eyes found the fair couple, dancing together and getting into Art vs. Science's _Parlez vous Francais?_ Her brow furrowed.

Tara's hips were in Alan's hands as she moved against him, before turning around to playfully mouth the words at the boy who was supposedly "just her friend". Alan's gaze seemed to thinly veil his blatant desire for the girl, but he played along, jokingly singing along with the chorus, chanting the French lyrics with the rest of the drunken dancers on the floor.

"But if they're together, why haven't we heard about it? Maybe they're just friends,"

"Dyl, you know as well as I do that friends don't have _that_ much sexual tension between them. The tension is so thick, you couldn't cut it with a knife. You'd need a chainsaw,"

"Eloquent," the girl laughed, before sobering, "So you think they're together?"

"Definitely. And tonight, I'm going to find out just why we haven't heard this before,"

"Don't push it, Lex. There's probably a reason we haven't heard about it,"

"Oh, I'm sure there is," the petite Asian woman nodded, "It's that Tara Belle sucks. Bitchprat,"

"I can tell you love her,"

"I am so going to kick her in the shins,"

.1.1.

The next morning, Tara stumbled out to the breakfast table, slumping, bleary eyed, in her usual spot. Alexia, surprisingly not hungover, poured her a cup of coffee, which the blonde accepted gratefully. Tara took a sip.

"So," Alexia sat down opposite her friend, curling her legs beneath her, "Tell me about how long you and Alan have been sleeping together,"

Coffee sprayed all over Tara's side of the table as she coughed at spluttered at the sudden onslaught.

"_WHAT?!_" she wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her pyjamas, azure eyes wide in shock at the girl opposite her.

"How long have you been together?"

"We're not!" the girl protested loudly, before immediately clutching a hand to her throbbing head. She lowered her voice to meekly protest, "We're not together. Alan's my best friend from way back,"

"If you say so,"

Silence settled on the table. The blonde continued to sip her coffee

"I don't believe you, by the way," Alexia added. Tara shot her a dark look.

"You should. It's reality,"

"Haven't we established you function in a different form of reality to everyone else, Tara Belle Amelia? Honestly,"

"You are such a git,"

"I love you, too,"

* * *

_**A/N **__(1) Best. Pickup Line. Ever._

_Apologies this chapter is just filler. I am so blocked, it's not funny._

_Also, a lot has happened since my last update, so double apologies for the lateness of this. _

_Finally, a shoutout to my boyfriend, who insists he's going to find this – If you've found it, you suck for looking.  
_

_Much love,_

_The Flame Faerie_


	43. Here it Goes Again

_**a/n**__ Yeah. I got nothing. Aside from crippling writers block, having to get everything together to start at my own med school, and now a bachelors degree in science. I've been busy. And I'm sorry, to anyone still out there._

_I don't own Thunderbirds or anything you recognise. Celecoxib is a NSAID COX-2 inhibitor used for treatment of rheumatoid and osteoarthritis, as well as pain management. Apologies that it's short, but I'm really struggling here._

* * *

**Chapter 43 – **Here it Goes Again

* * *

Tara was sitting in her room, her laptop open before her as she typed her notes from that week's Immunology lectures into a fresh word document, when the phone rang.

She let it ring for a few minutes, anticipating one of her roommates to be closer and to answer it first.

Instead, she heard Alexia's lazy drawl "_Phone!_" from the Asian girl's bedroom.

Sighing, Tara uncurled her legs from beneath herself, and wandered to the phone in the kitchen. She hit "accept call".

Her mother's face filled the small screen.

"_Tara Belle! I'm glad I caught you_,"

"Hi mother," the blonde began, almost cautiously, "Has something happened to the boys and Uncle Jeff?"

"_What? Oh! No, no! But I do need to ask a favour of you,"_

Oh, damnit.

"Yes…?"

"_There is no need to sound so suspicious, Tara Belle Amelia. I just need you to get one of your nice dresses and be ready to go out by 6 tomorrow night,"_

"Why, mother? I've got to write a lab report for pharmacology, and I've got at least four other things I need to do for—"

"_Tara Belle, I appreciate that you're busy, but I ask you to do things so _rarely_. I need you to be ready to go out tomorrow night_," The blonde girl pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. Trust Penelope to crack out the guilt trip.

"… why?"

"_The Red Cross is holding a benefit gala, and I would like you to come with me. It's a good opportunity to do some networking and to build your public image,"_

"Mother, I don't give a crap about my public image,"

"_Well you should, Tara Belle. You're part of the aristocracy,"_

"Mother..." Tara whined.

"_I'll pay your tuition for this semester,"_

"I'll be ready at five thirty."

As she hung up the phone, Tara momentarily wondered if it was shallow of her to be so easily won over by offers of tuition payment.

Then she reflected that she was a student. Any unexpected money was an amazing thing.

* * *

Predictably, at 5.45 the following evening, Parker rapped his knuckles against Tara's flat door, while Penelope adjusted the solitaire bracelet on her wrist.

The blonde medical student opened the door with a scowl.

"I'm thoroughly displeased with you right now," she directed her ire at her mother, before stepping into a hug from Parker.

"I know, dear," Penelope adjusted the strap on her daughter's black gown, before shifting the tie around Tara's waist to sit more forward, "You look lovely. Are you ready to leave?"

Tara nodded, turning to pluck a set of flash cards from the table by the door.

Penelope opened her mouth to protest, however her daughter silenced her with a look.

"I have a midsemester tomorrow, I'm coming out with you tonight. I will be learning my pain management drugs for drug therapy, and there isn't thing one you can do about it,"

Penelope looked as though she wished to argue, however she wisely bit her tongue.

"Shall we head, m'lady?" Parker interjected. The aristocrat nodded her head slightly.

"Yes Parker, we shall,"

Tara trailed behind them, her nose buried in the cards.

* * *

The moment they arrived, Tara found her way to her seat, and withdrew her flashcards once again from her clutch purse.

One again, Penelope looked to comment on her daughter's behaviour, however Tara chose only to interrupt with, "I agreed to come, I never agreed to socialize,"

"Tara Belle, that completely defies the purpose of coming this evening!"

"Mother, I'm studying to be a _doctor_. I think these people will understand if I choose to take my studies more seriously than I take schmoozing with the upper class,"

Unhappily, the Lady Creighton-Ward could see her daughter's point.

"Please promise you'll at least speak if spoken to,"

Tara rolled her azure eyes.

"Yes, mother," she replied, "But I'm not going to have long, wordy conversations with anyone,"

* * *

Halfway through the evening, following the traditional banquet, the dancing began.

Predictably, Penelope was swept up by some middle aged man, looking to sleaze his way into the aristocrat's good graces and, ever the philanthropist, Penelope agreed to bestow him her time.

Tara, however, silenced all who approached her with a hearty glare that she'd perfected in her final year of school – the one capable of shutting up the prefects and vice captain as required.

Which, when she considered it, was quite a lot.

So, glare on hand, Tara was reasonably pleased with the progress she was making with her notes.

"Fancy seeing you here again, Ms. Creighton-Ward,"

However, sometimes people just didn't take the hint.

Tara's gaze flickered up to her unwelcome guest, however her rude protest died in her throat as she gazed into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.

"I do hope you recall, we met at the last benefit…? I'm Theodore Kennilworth…?"

"I recall," she replied, almost bashfully.

Inwardly, Tara rebuked herself. This wasn't like her.

Sure, Theodore was handsome, but he'd never affected her like this on their previous encounter. Yes, he had a very well defined jaw, cheekbones you could cut yourself on, and eyes you could lose yourself in, but she was stronger than that.

Men didn't get to her like this.

Not since Charlie, and she refused to be _that_ girl again.

_It has to be the sleep deprivation,_ she rationalized, _or my unhealthy caffeine intake._

"I do hope I'm not interrupting," Theodore pulled out the seat beside the blonde, "But I saw you over here and hoped I'd be able to finally chat to you,"

Tara swallowed, taking a deep breath to regain herself.

"I…" she cleared her throat and tried again, "I'm studying for a midsemester I have tomorrow," she held up the flash cards, "I'm probably not going to be much conversation,"

Theodore seemed to consider this for a moment, before plucking the cards from her fingers.

"Then I'll help. After all, I've heard you learn better from being quizzed than just repeatedly reading your notes. That's what my servants told me, anyway,"

Tara bit back a giggle.

"Sure. If you're not too busy…"

"Oh, I'd never be too busy for a beautiful aristocrat like yourself," he replied, teasingly. Tara flushed, her head bowed.

"Thank you,"

"Alright," Theodore flipped through a few cards, "Celecoxib,"

* * *

The end of the benefit found Theodore and Tara still seated together, Tara giggling at the duke's jokes and attempts at pronouncing half the drug names she was trying to learn.

Penelope approached the couple warily.

"Tara darling, it's time to go," she collected her shawl, "Parker's waiting outside with the rolls,"

"Coming, mother," Tara packed her things away, standing slowly. Theodore rose with her.

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Ms. Creighton-Ward,"

"Tara," she corrected, her cheeks slowly blooming, "Thank you for your help, Duke Kennilworth,"

"Theo," he replied, taking her small hand and bringing it to his lips to press a gentle kiss across her knuckles, "I hope to see you again soon, Tara,"

"I... yes," the blonde murmured. Theodore grinned.

"I shall call you?"

"Okay," she stared up into his blue eyes, and smiled softly.

"_Tara Belle, now!_"

"Coming mother," the moment was broken, and the blonde bid a hasty farewell, before running after the Lady.

Theodore watched after her, a small grin on his handsome features.

He grabbed a nearby server.

"Fetch my car, will you?"

"Sir, I don't—"

"You work here, do you not?" he replied sharply, "Fetch my car,"

The server nodded.

"Yes, Sir,"

* * *

Theodore called Tara three days later, inviting her out for dinner.

The blonde accepted, before hanging up and losing herself in a giggling fit.

From the doorway, Alexia watched, eyebrow arched.

_Here we go again_, she thought dryly.


	44. Blame it on the Girls

**Chapter 44** – Blame it on the Girls

* * *

Alexia Peiling Bowie liked to think that when it came right down to it, nothing got past her.

Alexia Peiling Bowie also liked to think that her best friends, Dylan Louise Connelly and Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward, both confided in her, and would want her to meet their significant others as soon as the relationship began.

This is why, right now, Alexia Peiling Bowie was unimpressed with one Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward, and was leaning against her bedroom wall, arms crossed, with a particularly unamused expression hanging over her features.

"So... who is he and what's he like?" Tara looked up from rummaging through her wardrobe.

"What?" the Asian girl pursed her lips.

"Who is this boy you're going out with tonight?" Tara cracked a small smile.

"He's the Son of the Duchess of Royston,"

"That poor duchess?"

"Yes. Well, no. She's rich again," Alexia's brow arched.

"Oh?" Tara rolled her eyes.

"Thanks for your faith in me. No, I'm not going out with him because he has money," she leaned back and looked up at Alexia, winking, "I've got my own, thanks,"

"Yeah, yeah. Bitch," the girl grinned, "So what's he like?"

"He's nice,"

"... could you _be_ any more ambiguous?"

"Fine. He's tall, got this fantastic dirty blonde sex-hair and is well built," she considered this, "_very_ well built,"

Alexia raised her eyebrows.

"He's not named Alan, by any chance, is he?" Tara couldn't help but laugh.

"No. Theodore,"

"And you've gone out with him, what, 4 times...?"

"About that, yeah,"

"So you like him?" Tara looked her friend in the eye and smiled.

"Yes, Alexia, I like him a lot,"

Alexia straightened herself up and walked over, helping Tara rummage.

"You know..." she chose her words carefully, "He sounds an awful lot like another young man I know..."

"Yeah?" Tara fished out a pair of black stilettos from next to her chucks.

"Uh-huh. Named Alan. Has a brother. They stayed her a year ago. Seemed nice enough, if not a little innocent. You two got on well..."

Tara looked up, giving Alexia a look.

"Alan? Oh please Alexia. Theo and Alan are nothing alike,"

"Oh yeah? Name differences,"

"Well, to start with – Alan's a friend, nothing more," Tara's heels hung on her index finger, "where as Theo is what we _plebians_ call a "boyfriend", mmkay?"

"Plebian? You? Don't make me laugh," Alexia pulled out a strapless black knee-length dress and handed it to Tara, "It'll go with your shoes,"

"Thanks,"

"No problems," she turned to leave before re-thinking it, "And take the silver clutch. Looks awesome with that dress,"

Tara couldn't help but laugh as Alexia left her sitting on the floor, leaning back against her chest of drawers inside the wardrobe.

"Theo and Alan are nothing alike" she whispered, more to re-affirm herself than anyone else, "Nothing,"

* * *

Tara grinned, spying her date sitting alone at the table.

She walked up, elegantly as she could in the awkward heels and took a seat across from him.

"Hey Theo..." his jaw dropped

"Tara! You look... amazing!" She chuckled and placed her clutch on the table next to her wine-glass.

"I hope I didn't have you waiting too long," the blonde spoke in that melodic voice, "My roommates gave me hell before I left,"

"No, it wasn't too bad," Theodore flashed her a dazzling smile, "Feel like some wine before we order?"

"I'd love some," Tara grinned and Theodore summoned the waiter.

"Your most expensive wine, please. White,"

"Will that be all sir?"

"For now,"

Tara looked down, scanning the menu for her dinner that night.

It was when she glanced up she noticed Theo staring at her fondly.

"Everything OK?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"It's perfect," Tara felt herself blush and she smiled again, Theodore grinning.

"Your wine, sir," The waiter poured two glasses and placed them on the table, Theodore slipping him a £50 note.

Tara thanked him and took a sip of the drink, hearing the distinctive tinkle of metal striking the bottom of the glass.

She examined it and her eyes widened.

"Is that what I think it is?" Theodore nodded, fishing it out with his spoon.

"Tara, I know we've only been going out for a few months but as soon as I met you, I knew there was something special about you and I loved you the moment I saw you. Not only were you charming and beautiful, but you were also a member of the aristocracy and I could relate to you. I don't want to lose you, Tara. And so..." He finished wiping the ring clean and bent down on one knee, taking Tara's hand.

"... Would you do me the honour of being my wife?"

Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

Cerulean eyes were wide – she was so stunned.

But finally, _finally_ she could get the words out.

"Yes, Theo. Yes I will!"

Theodore beamed, slipping the ring onto her finger and Tara threw her arms around his neck.

"Yes..." there was a chorus of "Aww" and "Isn't that sweet" from the restaurant goers and Tara blushed.

"Thank you darling, I love you..."

"We should talk about some wedding details though,"

"Like what?" Tara looked up at Theodore from her meal.

"Well, who do you want to give you away?" The girl swallowed her mouthful and considered it.

"Parker," she finally decided, "He's been like a father to be all these years..."

Theodore raised an eyebrow.

"The butler? Darling, surely there is someone else,"

"What's wrong with Parker?" Tara's tone took a sharp edge of defensiveness to it.

"Nothing," Theo held up his hands, "but it can sprout gossip. I mean, your mother and the butler? People will be suspicious if he gives you away,"

"But can't we argue that of whoever takes me down the aisle?"

"I suppose," Theo consented, "But people would be more vicious towards Parker. What about that Uncle of yours?" Tara gave him a strange look.

"Uncle? I don't have any—oh," and realisation dawned, "Uncle Jeff,"

"Yes. He seems like a more appropriate choice, wouldn't you say?"

"I suppose," Tara sighed, "I'll ask him,"

"Excellent," Theo beamed, "More wine?"

* * *

"Ooh!" Dylan squealed, hugging Tara when she delivered the news to her roommates.

"You're engaged!"

Alexia furrowed her brow.

"Congrats, Tars..." Alexia patted her on the back and sat down, musing quietly.

She had been so sure of something with Alan, and now…

Dylan's emerald gaze sought Alexia's chocolate eyes. She arched her brow slightly, to which Alexia nodded. Dylan was thrown by it, too.

But that wouldn't stop them being happy for her.

No matter how completely _stupid_ they thought she was being.

* * *

"Please tell me you think she's mentally deficient too," Dylan closed the door of Alexia's room behind her as she wandered in that evening, after Tara had giddily retreated to bed.

"I've always thought you two are mentally deficient," Alexia drawled from her place on the bed. She marked the page in her book and placed it on the bedside table, "Why now?"

"Have you even met Tara's "_fiancée"_?" the redhead girl asked, spitting the last word disgustedly.

"Nope," Alexia replied, "Which I'm, quite frankly, a little offended by. Are we her best friends or not?"

"Well, yes, but you are a little intense, so I suppose that's why you haven't met him,"

"Haha-fuck you," the Asian girl replied, "I'm perfectly wonderful around new people,"

"Just not Tara's boyfriends,"

Alexia looked as though she was going to retort, but closed her mouth instead, before sighing and dragging a hand down her face.

"Look, she's smitten. Their relationship has barely left the honeymoon period. I think after everything with Charlie, she got confused and just latched onto this guy. From the sounds of things, he looks exactly like Alan, and it's probably her latent attraction to Alan that's pushing this relationship so far,"

Dylan stared, dumbstruck.

"Um, wow," she finally stuttered, "I guess this is why you get HDs in psychology,"

Alexia shot her friend a look.

"Look, Tara's not a complete twit. She'll come to her senses soon enough. We just need to be there for her, and try to casually lead her to the right decision. And while I'm unhappy we haven't met him, we should probably just… y'know… move on. She sucks. When she comes to her senses, we'll tell her. Then she'll buy us all drinks and grovel, and it'll be great,"

* * *

The next morning, Tara drove over to the Creighton-Ward manor and eagerly raced in to see her mother.

She found Penelope on the phone to the Duchess of Royston.

"... Isn't it WONDERFUL Penelope? My son's engaged!"

"Oh yes. Now, if only we could get Tara engaged..." Penelope sighed and Tara cleared her throat.

"Oh, I'm sorry dear, I must leave," Penelope hung up and turned around.

"Hello, Tara dear," Penelope's azure eyes scanned her daughter's bright face, "You seem excited. What's happened?" Tara thrust her hand out and showed her mother the diamond engagement ring.

Penelope's eyes widened.

"You're engaged?" Tara nodded, grinning.

A strange look flitted over the elder aristrocrat's features, but was gone before Tara could register it.

"How could you be engaged if you aren't seeing anyone?" the girl shifted awkwardly in her seat at her mother's question.

"Well, I have been seeing someone, mother. I just didn't… tell you. Because I wasn't sure where it was going, and I didn't want you to make a big deal of it,"

Penelope swallowed a protest, and asked, "How long?"

"A few months,"

"And who is he?"

"Theodore Kennilworth," Penelope raised her eyebrows.

"The Duke of Royston?" Tara nodded.

"Do you love him?"

A soft look settled on Tara's pretty features.

"I do,"

"Then congratulations, darling. I'm happy for you. Who have you told?"

"Uhh..." Tara took a seat, "my roommates, and now you. I don't know who Theo's told, but not many people know at this stage. I think,"

Penelope smiled and began to pace the room.

"Alright then," she clapped her hands together, "Well, we have so much to plan! Do you know when it is?" Tara shook her head.

"He proposed to me last night, mother... we haven't planned anything!" Penelope nodded.

"Oh, this is fantastic! I'll call Jeff! We have to tell the boys!" Tara nodded, grinning.

"No, wait. I have a better idea. Why don't we go to see them?" Penelope pondered the thought for a moment and then concurred.

"Parker!" she rang the bell and the door opened.

"Parker, fetch the car. We're going to Tracy Island – Tara's engaged!"

* * *

"Penelope! How lovely to see you!" Penelope held her arms out and kissed Jeff on both cheeks.

Tara followed in after her mother and the boys looked puzzled.

"We had to come and tell you, seeing as you boys are like family to Tara,"

Tara glanced at her mother and Penelope urged her on.

Tara took a deep breath and smiled.

"Something brilliant happened last night...


	45. Sunrise, Sunset

**Chapter 45** – Sunrise, Sunset

* * *

Tara grinned, holding out her right hand.

"I'm engaged!" Alan sweatdropped in his chair.

"E...Engaged?" She grinned wider and nodded.

"He's the Duchess of Royston's son. He helped her re-acquire her fortune and then we met and started going out," she paused for effect, "…and now, we're engaged!"

Alan couldn't help but wonder if it would hurt less had Tara torn his heart out and used it as a football.

"Well done Tara," Jeff smiled, looking over at a pleased Penelope.

"I'm happy she's managed to get herself a nice young man,"

Alan smiled stiffly, and muttered something about a stomach ache, excusing himself to his room, where he kicked the door shut, falling face first onto his bed.

Tara blinked at his retreat.

"What's wrong with him?" she queried. Gordon sighed.

"Tara, for someone who's meant to be incredibly gifted, you really are an idiot sometimes," Gordon followed his brother up and knocked lightly on the door.

"Al? You OK?" Gordon pushed it open and his face softened, seeing his younger brother burying his head under his pillows.

"Al, I told you that you should have told her how you felt. Tara, and most women, can be pretty thick when it comes to things like that..."

Red-rimmed cornflower blue eyes met Gordon's hazel stare.

"I guess you're right," he sighed, "That doesn't make it any easier, though,"

"I know, Al. But at least she seems happy. Isn't that really all that matters?" Alan sighed and nodded a little.

Gordon punched him lightly on the arm and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Alan just collapsed again, face first into his pillows.

* * *

Gordon came back down to find Virgil and Scott sitting in the corner, talking quietly.

He walked over and joined them, Virgil looking up and raising his chin slightly to acknowledge he'd seen Gordon.

"Hey..."

"How's Alan taking it?" Gordon sighed, leaning over his knees.

"Pretty badly..." Scott heaved a sigh.

"He should have told her when he had the chance..."

"Alan's always had that weakness with women..." Tin-tin rubbed Gordon's shoulders and took a seat next to him.

"Stupidity?"

"No... he can't tell them how he feels... he keeps it all bottled up and then just acts obviously..." Scott laughed a little.

"But if he acted obviously... like we all know he did, why couldn't Tara pick it up?"

Tin-tin shrugged.

"She's blonde?" Gordon sniggered.

"That'd be about right..."

* * *

"I'd like to meet this young man... Tara? Could you organise a time for all of us to have dinner together?" Penelope raised an eyebrow at Jeff and he smiled.

"Well Penelope... Tara's almost like a daughter to me... someone's got to be the protective father..."

Tara took a deep breath.

"That's another thing I wanted to ask you... Uncle Jeff... will you give me away?" A wide grin broke out over the man's face.

"I'd be honoured to Tara," she beamed back in response, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Thank you, Uncle Jeff!" her eyes slid to the kitchen archway, "I'll go and call Theo and tell him the good news!"

Jeff nodded and Tara all but skipped off.

In the kitchen, she ran into Alan, who was rummaging through the pantry for food.

"Hey Alan!" he stopped and sighed.

"Hi Tara..." her brow furrowed.

"Are you OK?"

Alan looked at her and winced.

Now it seemed even looking at her broke his heart... again and again...

"Yeah..." he forced a smile, "Just tired..." She leaned over the counter and ruffled his hair.

"You need to get more rest, Al. Hang on, I just need to call Theo,"

She lifted the receiver, missing the look of agony on Alan's face.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey Theo!"

"_Hey, Future Duchess of Royston!"_ Tara giggled.

"My mother and extended family, would like to get together for dinner... when are you free?" Theo laughed.

"Anytime for you, Tars..." Alan felt sick and just left the kitchen, walking up the stairs.

"Anytime for you, Tars..." he mocked, pulling a face and slamming his bedroom door shut.

Downstairs, Gordon groaned, looking over at Tin-tin.

"Oh, brilliant. Someone's back on his period," Tin-tin backhanded Gordon's arm.

"Leave him alone,"

"I'm sorry, but whenever Alan gets on his bitch pills—"

"_Shut up, Gordon_,"

* * *

Penelope had decided the dinner should be held at Tracy Island and Kyrano was hurrying around, tidying it up for Theodore's arrival.

He finally arrived, at 7 p.m. sharp, Tara answering the door and giving him a hug, in front of Scott and Virgil - Gordon was upstairs, trying to boost Alan up for the evening.

Theodore acted courteously and greeted Penelope and Tin-Tin with a kiss on the hand and shook the Tracy's hands firmly in turn.

After Tara had lead him into the dining room, Virgil and Scott turned to each other, eyebrows raised.

"Is it just me, or can you see it too?" Virgil asked, a little disturbed.

Scott shook his head.

"No... You're right... he looks..."

The two exchanged a glance.

"... Just like Alan..."

* * *

"So how did you and Tara meet?" Jeff asked, cutting into his potatoes at the dinner table.

"Last year at a charity ball, I asked for a dance," Theodore looked over at the blonde, a light flush creeping over her pale cheeks, "She refused, at first, but finally accepted. I was enchanted, and hoped to run into her again. We met at the Red Cross Charity Benefit a few months later, and we just… hit it off, this time,"

"A few months later, we're engaged," Tara added, lifting her wine glass to her lips.

Gordon shot Alan a sympathetic look and turned back to Tara.

Alan just stared resolutely at his plate, moving the food around with his fork.

"Alan, eat something," Scott nudged his little brother and Alan sighed.

"I'm not hungry,"

Gordon bit back a groan as Tara missed this obvious display of lover's agony, too caught up in making kissy faces at her stupid fiancé.

* * *

After the meal and a few drinks, Theodore stood, Tara following suit.

"I'd best be making my way home. But it was lovely to meet you all," he stood, moving to shake Jeff's hand firmly, his other arm worming it's way possessively around Tara's waist as she walked him to the door.

"Did I do alright?" Theodore asked and Tara nodded.

"You were fantastic," she murmured, before he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle farewell.

Tara set him off on a water taxi, and bid him goodbye for that evening.

* * *

When she returned to the house, Tara's azure eyes scanned the room for her best friend. Alan was nowhere to be found.

So, she wandered up to his room, knocking gently on the closed door.

"Al?" she asked, opening it slowly to peer inside, "Alan? Are you okay?"

Alan sighed, staring at his ceiling and refusing to look at the blonde aristocrat.

"I'm fine," he ignored the aching in his chest, "Did you set _your fiancé_ off alright?"

Tara missed the bitter undertone.

"I did," she sat on the edge of the youngest Tracy's bed, chewing her lip, "Al, what did you think of Theo? You know your opinion matters to me… Am I making the right choice?"

A lesser man would have taken advantage of this situation.

Alan wanted nothing more than to say that Theodore was a bastard – not worthy of Tara's time, or her love – but he knew, in his heart of hearts, that he couldn't do that to her.

It wouldn't make her love him if he did.

He closed his eyes tightly. What choice did he have?

"He seems... nice," A grin erupted on Tara's face. She hugged him tightly.

"Thanks Alan!"

Penelope summoned her daughter from downstairs, so Tara bid her farewell.

She missed the tear sliding down Alan's right cheek.

* * *

"Seems a little fast. Their engagement, I mean," Jeff handed a glass of dessert wine to Penelope, "How have we not heard of this young man before?" He settled in the seat opposide the blonde aristocrat.

"She was keeping it close to heart, because she assumed we'd make a big deal out of it before she was sure of the relationship," Penelope ran her pinky over the rim of the glass, "She says she loves him, so we have no choice but to support her,"

Jeff swallowed hard, and looked down into his own wine.

"She's not… pregnant, is she?"

Penelope shot the American a hard look.

"Jeff, I trust her not to be stupid with her sex life. I think they just… genuinely love each other, and want to get married to cement their love,"

Jeff sighed.

"Then I suppose we have no choice but to support her. The boys won't like that – I could tell Gordon and Scott were controlling their brotherly urges tonight to interrogate the pair of them,"

"And Alan?" Penelope asked, sipping her wine, "How is he holding up?"

"Well enough, considering he's completely in love with her,"

The two adults sighed at the situation.

"We can't interfere, Jeff. They need to make their own mistakes. Alan's a grown man—"

"No he's not."

"—Alan's _mostly_ a grown man. He'll be fine. And Tara is… an impulsive girl. If this isn't meant to happen, she'll come to her senses. If there's anything I've learned from being her mother it's that she's a stubborn as a goat when she wants to be. Try to push her, and she'll lower her head and butt back,"

Jeff couldn't help but snort at the mental picture.

* * *

A few months after the dinner, the wedding date had been decided, the invitations sent and Tara, Tin-tin, Alexia, Dylan and Penelope were out fitting Tara's wedding dress and the bridesmaid's gowns.

"I'm coming out!" Tara declared and Alexia leaned against the wall, Dylan sat down and Tin-Tin rummaged through the racks. Penelope was nowhere to be seen.

Tara emerged and Alexia gasped.

She was wearing a strapless white gown, white sequins sown in the tight top and the skirt flaring out, reaching the ground. The top half of the gown was satiny and the bottom was a thick skirt of thin netting, organza and silk.

"Ooh… Perfect for you, Miss. Tara! Now all you need is a nice Tiara and the veil!" The saleswoman bustled around, taking the tiara and veil from a stand and placing them on Tara's head.

Tin-tin smiled and couldn't help but feel a sting for Alan.

Tara looked amazing in the white gown.

Alan would feel like she'd shot him through the heart.

"Stunning, darling..." Tara grinned at her mother, who appeared from behind a gown rack.

"Tin-Tin? What do you think of this as the Maid of Honour's gown?" Tin-tin chuckled.

Penelope had picked a rose pink gown, similar to Tara's dress, but with a tighter skirt and a shawl.

"It's nice, Lady Penelope..."

Tara laughed.

"Pick a gown, Tin-Tin! You're the maid of honour!"

Tin-tin nodded and continued her rummaging.

* * *

Gordon could be sensitive, he really could. He could understand his brother's angst. He could understand his brother's moping. He could (barely) tolerate his brother's bitching.

However, he could not tolerate the moping.

So, he did what any good brother would do.

"_DAMN IT, ALAN_," Gordon smacked his brother upside the head, "_GET UP_,"

Alan rubbed the back of his head, staring at his elder brother, confused.

"_This_ is not helping! _This_ is you moping like a little bitch while the woman you love marries another man. Now, you can either keep moping (like a little bitch), whinging about how you never told her how you felt, so she married another – so keep up what you've been doing the last few months, or you can suck it up, grow a pair and tell her you love her. What do you have to lose?"

Alan sighed.

"Her,"

"_You don't __have__ her, Alan._ Your goddamn _clone_ does! And what? She'll reject you, and marry him?"

"She'll just reject me and then make me feel like an even bigger fool... If I'd meant anything to her... something would have happened by now!"

Gordon hit Alan again.

"Maybe she wanted you to make the first move! COME ON ALAN! You two have left each other enough hints! Damn it! Even if I have to attach strings to you and work you like a marionette, you have to tell her how you feel, while you can still change her mind!"

* * *

A few weeks before the wedding, Alan finally decided to bite the bullet and talk to Tara.

He and his brothers were helping Tara set up the reception hall and the church for the rehearsal.

"Go!" Gordon hissed, helping Scott lift the pews up and Alan took a deep breath, walking up to the blonde girl.

"Tara?" She turned around, grinning.

"Hey Alan!"

"Hey Tara... umm... can I talk to you?" She nodded slowly and Alan bit his lip.

"I have something I need to-"

"Gordon! Don't put the pew there! It's got to come more over this way!"

Tara walked past Alan and groaned.

"I thought I told you guys not to move this table!"

Alan sighed and shrugged at Gordon.

"I tried..." he mouthed and Gordon rubbed his temples.

"Try harder!"

* * *

As the wedding drew closer, each time Alan tried to talk to her, Tara had to go and yell at someone, or got distracted by what she was doing.

Eventually, he just gave up and stayed at home for each of the practices, rehearsals and pre wedding events.

Theodore and Tara had picked the Gordon Street Chapel for the wedding and the reception was going to be held at the Creighton-Ward manor.

John had been informed of the wedding situation and wanted to try and come down from Thunderbird 5 for a day, Jeff telling him he'd consider it.

A week before the wedding, Gordon came up to Alan's room, followed by Tin-tin, Virgil and Scott.

"Alan..." Alan was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall and staring out the window. He took a swig of whiskey and kept his unblinking stare.

Tin-tin sighed and tugged the bottle from Alan's grip, closing the top.

"Alan... Please... eat something..." Alan let out a dry sob.

"You know, Tin-tin... if you hadn't left me, I never would have fallen in love with Tara..."

The brothers exchanged glances and sighed.

"It's not too late to do something about it, Alan..."

Alan looked up, his eyes bloodshot.

"She won't fucking listen..."

Sighing heavily, the Elder Tracy boys left, Tin-tin following.

Gordon closed the door to Alan's room and turned to his brothers.

"How can Tara be so oblivious to his pain?"

Tin-tin bit her lip and looked up.

"Maybe because she's oblivious to her own..."


	46. Lover, You Should've Come Over

**Chapter 46** – Lover, You Should've Come Over

* * *

The next day, Alan woke up, his head throbbing.

Tin-tin came in wordlessly and handed Alan a cup of coffee, before leaving again.

Alan sighed, staring at the floor.

With a whimper, he broke into sobs.

* * *

Tara had decided to spend the day in her apartment, talking with Alexia and Dylan excitedly.

Dylan seemed as thrilled as Tara, but Alexia always had a scheming, serious face on.

Tara turned to the raven-haired girl and raised an eyebrow.

"Everything OK?" Alexia nodded, biting her finger.

"Just thinking... that's all..." Tara shrugged at Dylan and smiled.

* * *

Alan came downstairs, rubbing his head and Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"Alan, son... you look terrible!"

"Yeah," Gordon piped up, "You look like shit!" Jeff glared darkly and his second youngest.

"Come on Dad! You know you love me!"

Alan didn't reply, he just went into the pantry and took out the painkillers.

Scott and Virgil exchanged glances and heavy sighs.

* * *

Tara sat on her bed and flicked through a large book, smiling at each picture.

"What you looking at?" Alexia asked, leaning against the door.

"My old photo albums..." Alexia took a seat next to Tara and looked over her shoulder.

"Who's that?" she pointed at a picture of Tara when she was 5, surrounded by her family... and the Tracy boys.

"That? The little blonde one... in pink... is me..." Alexia laughed.

"No... That one!" Tara looked at Alexia.

"Him? That's Alan, Alexia..." she laughed.

"So you've known him for how long?" Tara bit her lip and leaned back.

"As long as I can remember... really..."

"Can you remember when that picture was taken?"

"Yeah..." she grinned, "Like it was yesterday..."

- - - - - - _**Flashback**_- - - - - -

"_Gordon!" A much younger Jeff Tracy bellowed, Gordon racing down the stairs._

"_This place is so cool Dad!" he jumped the last few stairs and grinned._

"_Look out below!" Alan slid down the banister and Jeff groaned._

"_One day, you two are going to give me a heart attack..."_

"_And I'm sure they'll teach my daughter a few bad habit," Jeff turned around and grinned._

"_Penny!" Penelope gave Jeff a hug and then turned around, ushering Tara out from behind her skirt._

"_How are you coping, Jeff?" Jeff sighed and sat down on the lounge, offering Penelope a seat._

"_It's been tough," he paused, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding, "I mean... There where all these things the boys told Lucy. And things she did for them I can't even comprehend matching..."_

_Penelope gave him a weak smile._

"_I'm sure things will get easier as time passes,"_

"_I thought so too, but it's been 2 years since she died," Penelope mentally scolded herself for getting Jeff on the depressive memories train._

"_How are you going with your plans, Jeff?" she could have sworn he almost smiled._

"_Things are going quite well, especially after I bought this Island," the aristocrat made a rather unelegant noise_

"_Try tropical paradise," she responded, wryly._

"_A friend of mine, a scientist… Hiram H. Hackenbacker… he has really been a godsend in all of this,"_

"_Brains!" Jeff rounded on Gordon._

"_I told you not to call him that, Gordon!"_

"_Hi Tari" Tara blushed, her little hands gripping her skirt._

"_Hello Alan,"_

"_Hey Ra-ra!" Tara poked her tongue out at Gordon, pouting._

"_Don't call me that!" Gordon laughed and latched his arm around her neck, rubbing Tara's head._

"_Noogie!" Tara wiggled and whined._

"_MAM-MA!" Penelope looked over and clicked her tongue._

"_Gordon Cooper Tracy!" Gordon stopped and grinned at Lady Penelope._

"_Yes Lady P?"_

"_Hey Ra-ra!" Virgil jumped downstairs, followed by John and Scott, who both looked exasperated._

"_Don't call me that!" She stomped her foot angrily, brushing her hair out of her eyes and back into her headband._

"_What, Ra-ra?" John smiled and Tara frowned._

"_YES!"_

"_Fine, Ra-ra... OK Ra-ra... no more calling Ra-ra, Ra-ra... got that Scott?" John smirked._

"_OK then," Alan's eyes widened._

"_NO SCOTT!" Virgil, John, Scott and Gordon all picked up the youngest Tracy and threw him into the pool._

_Tara put her hands on her hips and pouted._

"_That was really mean, Scott," Scott laughed and scuffed Tara's hair._

"_Oi! Lover boy! Cut it out!" Scott raised his eyebrows._

"_Lover boy?" Tara stomped on Scott's uncovered toes and bolted away, behind her mother._

_She peered around the side of Penelope's long pink sarong and poked her tongue out at the boys._

_Penelope took Tara's hand and sat back down, pulling her daughter onto her lap._

"_Well Jeff, your sons definitely are corrupting my daughter," she smiled and Jeff laughed._

"_They'll do that,"_

_Behind them, Alan was clambering out of the pool, only to be pushed back in by Gordon._

"_GORDO-ON!"_

_Tara crossed her arms over her chest, scheming._

_After a few minutes, she hopped off Penelope's lap and raced upstairs to the bathroom._

_Gordon would regret teaching Tara the tricks of the pranking trade._

* * *

_Penelope and Tara had decided and been invited, to stay the night in Jeff's new house and both agreed heartily - Penelope wanted to see what the paradise was like at night and Tara wanted to see - and finish - her pranks._

_As far as she knew, the brothers were none the wiser to what she'd been doing in their bedrooms._

_Gordon's room had been doused in Itching powder, Scott's favourite aftershave exchanged with her mother's strongest rose perfume and John's room..._

_Tara was awfully proud of what she'd managed to do in John's room._

_In the doorway, she's hung a curtain of glue-ish, almost spider web fine adhesive sheeting, she'd found in one of the rooms. Of course, she didn't know that it was, in fact, industrial grade adhesive sheeting, only that is was sticky, thin and would work perfectly for her plans._

_And then, feathers_

_In John's bed, in his wardrobe, everywhere he could go_

_Feathers._

_It would be known as the best prank Tara ever pulled._

_Definitely an extraordinary feat for a 5 year old_

* * *

_The next morning came around and Tara raced downstairs, deciding to sit and play innocent when the boys came down._

_She smiled into her orange juice, hearing the first of her victims wake up._

_It was Gordon._

"_Dad," Gordon hopped downstairs, scratching madly all over his body, "I think I'm allergic to something around here,"_

_Tara bit her lip to stop herself from grinning._

_Jeff looked puzzled._

"_I can't see any hives, son," the boys' father squinted at his second youngest, "Gordon, you are aware that you're trailing powder down the stairs, aren't you? Please clean up your mess," Gordon turned around and saw his white footprints, things finally starting to fall into place._

_Alan trudged down after him and Gordon glared._

"_ALAN! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" Alan blinked._

"_What was what for?" Gordon shook his finger at his brother._

"_Don't you play dumb with me, buddy," Alan looked over at the table and spied Tara grinning madly._

_He shook his head at them both._

"_I've got no idea what you're going on about Gordo," Alan took a seat next to Tara at the table and watched Gordon disappear up the stairs._

"_What else did you do?" Tara smirked._

"_You wait..."_

_Scott came down next, Virgil behind him, holding his nose._

"_Morning all!" Alan looked at Tara, who just blinked, turning her gaze to the ceiling._

"_Damn it Scott! What the hell are you wearing?" Virgil gasped for air, racing out the glass doors._

"_What are you talking about?"_

"_It's like... Great Aunt Elysia. You smell like you bathed in perfume," Scott sniffed his hands and grimaced._

"_This isn't my aftershave..." He looked at Alan, who was barely holding back a laugh._

"_Ooh... you've done it this time squirt! I'll get you and Gordon for this!" Scott shook his finger at his brother._

"_Gordon is itching right now," Tara smiled, fluttering her eyelashes innocently._

"_!" John bolted down the stairs, feathers hanging from his pyjamas, hands, feet and face._

_Alan snorted into his breakfast, making John glare._

"_I AM GOING TO KILL YOU ALAN!" Alan sighed._

"_Great..." Tara stood up and grinned, putting her hands on her hips._

"_Why kill Alan? I did it!" Scott snorted._

"_Get real Tara, you're just a little girl!" Tara poked her tongue out._

"_I may be **just** a little girl," she mocked, "But I still got all of you! Now **don't** call me "Ra-ra"!"_

_John rolled his eyes, pulling feathers off himself._

"_Right Tara..." she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted._

* * *

_A few hours later, the group had cleaned themselves up, John finding soap and water washed the adhesive away, Scott scrubbing at his skin and Gordon lathering his feet in moisturiser and were all downstairs, dressed and clean._

_Parker had arrived, ready to reclaim Penelope and Tara, when suddenly Penelope had an idea._

"_Come on everyone! Gather in for a photograph!" Grumbling, the boys all stood together, smiling as Parker lined up the shot._

_There was a flash of light and a click and the elder boys looked at each other, smirking and picked up Tara, throwing her into the pool._

_Penelope raced down, helping Tara out of the water and Jeff smacked his sons upside the head._

- - - - - - _**End Flashback**_- - - - - -

Alexia raised an eyebrow, looking at Tara whilst she smiled contentedly, not saying a word.

Giving up, Alexia got up and left Tara in limbo.

* * *

That afternoon, Alan decided he needed to get out of the house and he left wordlessly, just driving around.

As he cruised down one street, a thought struck him.

He still had time to see Tara.

He still had time to tell her.

It wasn't too late.

With a sigh, he pulled off a main road and drove off.

(_**A/N**__ As it may have become painfully obvious, I've decided that each of the Tracy boys' cars are designed a bit like the movie verse Fab 1... with the multi terrain features...)_

* * *

Just as he was around the block from Tara's apartment, Alan spied a bar and he heaved a sigh.

He pulled over and walked in, taking a seat at the barstool.

"What'll it be?"

"Whiskey. Leave the bottle." the bartender poured and Alan downed it in one gulp.

He needed the alcohol for confidence.

* * *

"Tara Belle, bed. You need sleep. You're getting married in less than a week," Dylan chided, leaning against the archway to the bedrooms.

"I can't sleep Dylbot," the blonde responded, peering over her pharmacology textbook, "Besides, I'll empty the dishwasher and tidy up a little, then I'll go to bed," Dylan shrugged and sighed.

"Goodnight, Tars,"

"Night Dylan," Dylan retreated to her bedroom and Tara heard the door click shut.

Alexia was long asleep, so the apartment was silent, but for the shuffling sounds of the neighbours. Tara heaved a sigh, and closed her textbook, padding over to the kitchenette.

Menial tasks, like emptying the dishwasher, were always a comfort. They didn't require thought, just brainless action. For a few moments, she could feel life was as easy as stacking the plates and putting the cutlery away.

Once she'd finished, she went into her room, fixed her hair into loose pigtails and changed into her pyjamas - her carnation pink silk boxer shorts and baby pink singlet top, sliding in between her sheets.

She lay back and pulled out another book.

Arms! Take your last embrace! And, lips, O you

_The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss_

_A dateless bargain to engrossing death!_

_Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!_

_Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on_

_The dashing rocks thy seasick weary bark!_

_Here's to my love! _

Thus with a kiss, I die

_(__**A/N - **_**Romeo and Juliet - Act V. Scene III**_)_

The book closed with a sharp snap. Tara closed her eyes tightly.

Maybe before she was about to be married, it wasn't the best thing to be reading about true love and death in angst.

* * *

"Does anyone know where Alan went?" Scott came downstairs, looking around.

"Nope..." Virgil's fingers danced over the piano keys.

"Probably went to London to spill his guts to Tara," the eldest Tracy son raked his fingers through his hair, "I hope he did, anyway. It's killing me to see him like this,"

"He needs to come to his own senses, Scott," Virgil reminded softly as his melody dwindled to a melancholic minor key, "We can't push them or force it. Tara needs to see for herself, and the only way she'll do that is if he mans up and tells her. We can't force it, or it'll end in heartbreak for everyone,"

"I know," Scott sighed, falling into the seat beside the piano, "Doesn't mean I like it, though,"

* * *

Alan downed another glass of whiskey and the bartender packed up his bottles.

"Closing time, buddy."

Alan grumbled and slammed his money on the counter, getting up, a little unsteadily.

"Whoa, bud - I don't think I can let you drive. You've had a fair amount to drink tonight. Want me to call you a cab?" Alan just stumbled out the door and up the street.

A few metres away from the bar, he stopped in an alleyway and retched.

* * *

Tara lay awake in her room, staring at the darkened ceiling.

In some way, what she read had almost reflected her doubts about her wedding.

**Here's to my love - and thus, with a kiss**I die

'_With a kiss...'_

She rolled over and looked out her magnificent glass windows at the street below.

What started as a gentle tapping on the window had turned into thunder and lightning, illuminating the dark night sky.

The crack of thunder made Tara's windows shake and she sat up, swinging her legs over the side of her bed, walking over to her window and looking out on the street below.

The thuds on the door made her jump.

Glancing over at the clock on her bedside table, Tara raised an eyebrow, slipping on her light dressing gown and flicking a few strands of hair from infront of her eyes.

_**3:00 a.m.**_

She crept through the hallway and flicked on the lights, peering through the peephole on the door. Eyes widening, she immediately began to fiddle with the locks on the front door.

Tara swung it open, in time to catch the falling man.

"Alan? What the?"

"Tari... I havta talk wifyou..." his words were slurred and he was barely walking.

Tara took his weight, bringing him into the apartment and closing the door behind the two.

She sat him down on the lounge and went into the kitchen, getting him a glass of water.

"I havta talk to you before itstoo late..." Alan was barely sitting upright and Tara handed him the glass, taking a seat next to him.

It was then she was hit by the strong reeking stench, emanating from almost every part of him. It was the acrid aroma of urine and vomit, blended together by alcohol. She winced and slid over on the lounge.

Slowly, she looked over his whole figure and sighed. Alan's long sleeved black shirt was torn, his jeans disgustingly filthy and his hands looked grazed...

Almost like he'd fallen over a few times on the way here.

"Alan, you're drunk," Tara spoke softly and Alan tried to sip the water, only managing to spill it down his front and dribble it down his chin.

Tara got up and went out to the patio, bringing in the small bucket on the outdoor setting.

Having had Alexia in this situation many times, Tara was well learned in what to do.

She held the bucket out to Alan and he took it, his eyes seeming glazed over and Tara sighed, grabbing a towel from the kitchen.

"Alan, honey, please. You're not well, don't try to talk," She wiped his chin, neck and chest and Alan looked up at her, looking so sweet and innocent...

... Until he threw up in the bucket.

"I havta tell you..."

"Sshh..." Tara wiped the rainwater from his forehead and pushed him back onto the lounge.

"Don't talk Alan," she walked into the bathroom and took a few washers from the linen cupboard, wetting them through and taking a bath tray, filling it with water.

She wrung the cold face washers, until they were suitably damp and folded them, hanging them off the edge of the bath tray. She then gathered her the tray and carried them out, only to find that Alan had gotten up and wandered through to her room.

"Alan," She muttered, exasperated and followed him in, putting the wipes and the tray down.

"You're not well, Al," she spoke quietly, soothingly, "you need to lie down," She pulled up the sheets on her bed and took Alan's arm, helping him stumble over and forcing him down.

She went over and picked up her material and putting it down on the nightstand, taking one of the dampened cloths and lying it on Alan's forehead.

"Tara..."

"Sshh, Alan... just hush," she spoke soothingly, kneeling by the bedside and stroking his face.

"Relax, I'll just go and grab the bucket," she stood and felt Alan's hand close around her wrist.

"Please don't go," his voice was a hoarse whisper and Tara sighed, leaning over him, running the fingers of her free hand through his damp and messy blonde hair.

"It's OK Alan, I won't leave you," he smiled a little and loosened his grip on her arm. Tara smoothed the cloth of his forehead, her fingers moving down to his throat to check his pulse.

It was still there, and strong, if slightly slowed.

There was a dim light in Tara's room and she lifted Alan's hands, looking at the grazes on his palms.

She brushed her hair from out of her eyes and blew on the abrasion, removing the loose dirt.

After a few minutes, Alan fell into a light slumber and Tara checked his vitals again, finding they were still there.

She crept up and went outside, washing and bleaching the bucket and bringing it back in.

Like Alexia had before him, she had no doubt Alan would need it soon.

Tara looked at Alan's face and sighed.

It looked so innocent and child-like in the dim light and she ran her fingers through his hair again, her eyes softening.

She took the cloth from his forehead and checked his temperature -

It was way too warm for her liking.

Dampening the cloth again, she lay it back down and got up again, heading down to his feet and tugging off his shoes, shaking off some of the mud caked on them, by accident, onto her rose carpet.

She mumbled to herself, running ways to cool his temperature through his head.

Finally settling on one, she knew Alan wasn't going to like it, but she really didn't give a damn - as long as he was alright.

Sitting next to him, Tara unbuckled his belt, taking it off and throwing it onto the carpet - for now. She closed her eyes tightly and slipped her hands around the waistband on Alan's jeans, jerking them down inch by inch, until she finally tugged them off his legs, tossing them next to his belt and shoes on the rose carpet.

Next she straddled his chest, finding her hands rubbing against the muscles on his chest as she pulled the shirt off his upper torso awkwardly. Once off his chest, she gently nursed his head, tugging it over the closed cerulean eyes and damp, messy blonde hair.

With a few moments of awkward manoeuvring, Tara managed to cover his lower half with her sheet, giving up for a break.

She checked his pulse again and his breathing, not being able to help noticing the way the firm muscles on his chest rippled with each breath he took.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Tara laughed a little to herself.

'_I wonder how much Theodore would like to know his future wife undressed another man and let him sleep in her bed, a week before their wedding,'_

Alan's eyes blinked open and Tara held the bucket out, Alan not even bothering to take it, just throwing up inside it.

Tara winced and closed her eyes, looking away.

After he'd finished heaving the contents of his stomach, Alan laid back down, blinking a little.

"Tari?"

She put the bucket down and kneeled next to the bed.

"I'm here Alan,"

"My head hurts to move," Tara stood up, going over the other side of the bed and sitting next to him.

"It's OK, Al, I'm right here, like I promised," She laid her hand on his chest, over his heart and smiled.

"I have to tell you something,"

"Hush, Alan, please," She cupped his cheek in her hands and stroked it gently.

"You need to rest, otherwise you'll feel even worse in the morning. I won't leave you, OK?"

He blinked his big cerulean eyes at her and nodded slightly and Tara smiled.

"Now hush. Sleep. I'm right here, and I'm not moving,"

Alan closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.


	47. Shooting for the Moon

**Chapter 47 – **Shooting the Moon

* * *

At about 5 in the morning, Alan woke up, stirring Tara from her light sleep in a chair she'd pulled in and he raced into the bathroom, throwing up into the toilet.

She blinked, the picture around her sliding into focus and she sighed.

"So this will be just like how Alexia was after her 20th,"

Alan came stumbling back in and Tara helped him lie back down, putting another cloth on his forehead and covering him with the bed sheet, to give him some warmth.

He didn't make a comment about his lack of clothing.

A few hours later, when Alexia awoke, she opened the door to her room, just as Alan raced past her to the bathroom, to puke, yet again.

She blinked for a few minutes and Alan walked past her again and back into Tara's room.

Alexia grinned

"Ta-ra..." She called, her voice clearly tinted with mischief, "How come there's a half naked, very yummy, Alan Tracy wandering up and down our hallway? Did someone do something they shouldn't do last night? And if so, how is it that you have yet to give me details…?"

Tara appeared at her doorway, looking like she lacked sleep.

"Not what you think, perv brain. Alan got drunk and turned up here last night. He's sick," the Asian woman looked disappointed.

"Damn," she muttered, "I liked my version better,"

Tara snatched up a pillow and tossed it at her roommate.

"Shut up, Lex. I'm going to give him a few more hours, but if he doesn't improve, he's going to the hospital,"

* * *

When Scott awoke, he went past Alan's room on the way down, finding it still empty and sighed.

Downstairs, he found Gordon and Tin-tin and Scott cleared his throat.

"Do either of you know where Alan is?"

"No Scott," Tin-tin shook her head; "he left yesterday afternoon, without saying a word..."

Scott heaved a groan.

"I hope he hasn't done anything stupid,"

The phone rang and Scott leapt to answer it, practically diving into the chair opposite it.

"Hello?" he answered the call, coming face to face with an exhausted Creighton-Ward.

"Hey Scott,"

"Hey Tara. What's up?" Tara rubbed her eyes, wincing as she heard Alan retch in the background. Scott must have heard it too, because he smiled weakly.

"One of your roommates got smashed last night?" Tara snorted.

"Yeah, Alan isn't my roommate,"

"Alan?" Scott's brow furrowed, "Wait, he's there?"

Tara nodded, yawning.

"When?"

"At three this morning, he turned up, a mess, at my doorstep," she raked her fingers through her hair, "I'll take care of him – I'll probably need to take him to London Hospital," Scott opened his mouth to protest, but the girl held her hands up, "He's my responsibility, Scott. Just tell Uncle Jeff where he is, and that I'll take care of him, okay?"

"Tara..."

"Scott, what if there's a rescue? You deal with your job, I'll deal with your brother," Scott sighed, defeated.

"Alright Tara, if you're sure you can handle him," Tara smiled.

"Scott, this is nothing new to me. I'm doing medicine in college and my roommates have been as bad as this, if not worse. Trust me, I'm OK,"

The eldest Tracy cracked a smile.

"Thanks Ra-ra..."

"I _can_ also break your nose..." Scott severed the connection and turned to Gordon and Tin-tin, who didn't seem to have picked up much of the conversation.

"That was Tara," Gordon grinned.

"How is Ra-ra?"

"Exhausted. Seems Alan did go to London yesterday,"

"And he told Tara he was madly in love with her, and she's so exhausted because they spent all night making up for lost time and shagging like rabbits?"

Scott and Tin-Tin stared at the overly eager redhead in horror.

"Gordon, I…" the eldest Tracy could barely form words, "What?"

Gordon sighed melodramatically.

"A brother can hope, right? So where's the friendzoned wonder, anyway?"

That seemed to shake Scott from his stupor.

"He got drunk and turned up on Tara's doorstep and 3 a.m. this morning. She just wanted to let us know she's taking care of him," Gordon squinted as he seemed to process these words.

"Personally, I prefer my version of events. Ends with less whining from Alan,"

"Yes, but none of us want to consider what is essentially our younger sister and your brother having sex, Gordon," Tin-Tin sniped. The redhead couldn't really argue with that.

* * *

After a few hours of Alan getting up and retching, then going back to bed, he finally seemed to be getting a little better - he was throwing up twice every hour, instead of 3 times.

"You OK Tara?" Alexia handed her a glass of water and Tara nodded.

"Just tired. I've hardly slept all night," Alexia shrugged.

"At least the view's good," Tara shot her a dark look.

"I'm getting married in less than a week, Lex. You think that's something I should _really_ be thinking?"

"Well, if you love fiancé, then… no. Probably not. But if you don't, then _damn_ girl, you're allowed to look at whatever you want to!" Tara rolled her eyes, taking a sip of the water.

"Thanks," she gestured to her glass, deciding to shift the topic of conversation, "After watching him vomit since 3 am, I don't think I could stomach anything else,"

Alexia gave her a pat on the back.

"Tars, you keep an eye on me when I'm like this, I know exactly what you need,"

Tara nodded and fiddled with her engagement ring, watching Alan as he slept.

He looked quite peaceful.

"You gotta admit, though, he's pretty cute while he's asleep," Tara laughed and pushed Alexia out of the room.

"I should never talk to you! You make me think things I shouldn't before I'm about to get MARRIED!"

"So sue me, I appreciate the male form!" she called back.

Tara laughed and closed the door, hearing Alan let out a groan.

She slid onto the bed next to him and watched him as he opened his eyes.

"Where am I?" Tara blinked.

"You don't remember?"

"Have I died?" Tara smiled.

"No, Alan," she chuckled, "You're well and truly alive. You're at my flat. Can you remember any of last night?" Alan shook his head, wincing.

"Last thing I remember is stopping at a bar..."

"Please say in London. I don't want to think you managed to use that souped up car of yours to get here in the state you were in," Alan cracked a smile, his lips feeling incredibly dry.

"What happened?"

Tara sighed.

"You turned up here, late last night. You were totally out of it, telling me you had something to tell me. Long story short, you got sick and I took care of you. Do you feel like sitting up?" Alan slowly sat up, his head throbbing.

"Here..." Tara handed him a glass of water and he lifted it to his lips, taking a sip. He was still a little shaky and managed to spill half the glass down his torso, the droplets glistening on his muscles in the little light that came streaming through the window.

Tara picked up a towel and dabbed it on Alan's chest, drying the droplets. Her fingers brushed against his skin a few times, sending shivers down his spine.

Alan suddenly became aware of his lack of clothing.

"Uhh... Whe... Tara... Where exactly are my clothes?" She cracked a grin, rolling her eyes innocently towards the ceiling.

"Around,"

"Tara!" she chuckled.

"Alexia took them to be washed... you had a fever, so I had to keep you cool. Besides, they were filthy, and I was not letting those get into my bed," Alan blinked.

"Did I get changed myself?" Tara gave him a look.

"You'd passed out at that stage. I undressed you," A blush crept into Alan's cheeks and he felt his ears turning pink.

"You... Uhh..." Tara rolled her eyes.

"Oh really, Alan? We've known each other my whole life. I'm a medical student. There is literally nothing you could have that I wouldn't have seen before,"

"But still,"

Tara smirked and got off the bed, heading over to her dressing table and taking the elastics out of her hair, letting it fall straight at her shoulders.

"Again, Al – I've known you _over_ twenty years, and I've slept in the same bed as you. Twice."

"But those times, I was less naked!"

"Your point?"

"Ta-ra!" she turned around, smiling

"Come on, Alan! You're still wearing your boxers!" The flush grew deeper and Alan gulped.

The smile faded from Tara's face and she dove for the now empty - and cleaned - bucket and thrust it under Alan's mouth, just in time.

Once he'd finished, she wiped his mouth with tissues and sighed.

"Okay, that's officially nothing that you've kept down. I'm getting dressed, and you're going to the hospital,"

"What about me?" Tara smiled and opened the bedroom door.

"Alexia! Do you still have Tom's stuff?"

"That slime ball? Sure!" Alan heard the thudding of feet and Tara turned back to Alan, holding a White muscle shirt and a pair of cargo pants.

"Alexia has a vast collection of men's clothing..." She tossed them onto the bed.

"Tom's stuff should be in your size. I'll leave while you change, Mr. Modesty..." She grabbed her jeans and long pink V-neck long sleeved shirt, leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

Alan shakily stood up and walked a few paces, before turning back and picking up the pants.

Tara was right - Tom's stuff did fit.

After Alan had pulled on the cargos, he spied in the full-length mirror Tara had and examined his appearance.

He'd always been modest about his body, even though there really was nothing to be ashamed of.

His years of school athletics, car racing, swimming and International Rescue had given him a well-built upper body and his legs were also quite strong and powerful.

Tara knocked on the door, opening it and rolling her eyes.

"You're not dressed yet? Damn Alan!" She leaned against the doorframe, her blonde hair hanging quite perfectly by her face, framing it perfectly and cascading down her back.

She really had matured since he'd first seen her again, back when she was 16. Tara Creighton-Ward was no longer the bad tempered, foul-mouthed student of Thorntree Academy.

Alan pulled on the T-shirt and Tara smiled, straightening up.

"Alexia! I'm just gonna take Alan to the hospital... Proto. 1!"

Alan heard Alexia laugh and he raised an eyebrow, taking a few shaky steps along the hallway, Tara taking his arm for support.

"So if Theo calls...?"

"What part of Proto. 1 don't you understand? It's YOUR Protocol Alexia!"

"Have fun! The spare bucket's just by the door,"

"Thanks 'Lex," Tara picked up her keys and helped Alan out the door, grabbing the bucket on the way out.

"Here," she handed it to him.

'If you need to be sick, be sick in _there_..." she stressed the word, pointing at the bucket.

"Alright Tari..."

* * *

As soon as they walked into the emergency room, Tara was greeted with waves and smiles from the nursing staff.

"Hey Tara! Congratulations!"

"Hey Katie! Thanks..." Tara sat Alan down in a chair and turned back to the reception desk.

"Is Dr. Gale in?"

"Ah… yes. He is. Why?"

"A friend of mine has alcoholic poisoning. He can't keep anything down. He needs IV fluids, an antiemetic, and possibly an ECG," Katie, the nurse behind the desk nodded.

"Has your friend got a file at the hos—Hang on, it's not Alexia, is it?" Tara laughed.

"For once, no. It's not Lex. It's another friend,"

"Do they have a file here?"

Tara turned and looked at Alan, who shook his head.

"We never had to go to hospitals here,"

"Well, no then. No, he doesn't," Katie nodded, handing Tara the forms.

"You know the drill, Tara..." Tara smiled and took the clipboard and sat next to Alan.

"Right, all pretty straight forward. Name? Alan Shepard Tracy. Age? 24," she murmured as she wrote, "Date of Birth? Um…" the blonde blinked, her gaze rolling to the ceiling as she searched her memory, "21st of the 3rd... 2044?" Alan nodded.

"OK... Sex..." Alan looked at Tara, eyebrow raised. She laughed.

"Alright, alright. I won't make the comment Alexia normally does," In her neat, loopy writing, Tara wrote down: _Male_.

The rest of the questions she could answer, giving them her credit card details and asking Alan for the rest of the answers - in between him throwing up.

Finally, Dr. Daniel Gale came out and smiled.

"Tara! Lovely to see you again! Congratulations on the engagement!" Tara smiled.

"Thanks Daniel," She helped Alan up and took him into the examination room.

"So what seems to be the problem?"

"Alcohol poisoning, dehydration. IV fluids, ondansetron, rest," Tara helped Alan onto the examination bed and then slipped into a chair by the doctor's desk.

"Well, thank you for the diagnosis," Dr Gale teased. Tara pouted and rubbed her eyes, tiredly.

* * *

"Right, everything seems to be in order and working. You'll just need to take it easy, Mr. Tracy. So, no wild parties and I recommend you just go home and sleep," the doctor turned to Tara, who yawned.

"I recommend the same thing for you too, Miss. Creighton-Ward,"

Dr. Gale packed up his equipment and smiled.

"So do you two live together?" Tara raised her eyebrows.

"No, Daniel. I live in my apartment with my roommates of whom you're well acquainted and he lives on an island near America with his recluse billionaire of a father..." the corners of Daniel's lips curled.

"America? That is a bit far, don't you think? Tara, I think it would just be best if you took your friend back to your apartment and let him stay there for a few days to recuperate," Tara shook her head and smiled, standing up from the chair.

"Thanks, Daniel," She helped Alan off the bed and the two left the hospital.

About halfway back to Tara's apartment, Alan turned to her and looked puzzled.

"How do you know most of the staff there?" Tara chuckled.

"Apart from the countless times I've taken Alexia in there, I did my practical assessment in that hospital for college," she turned off the main road and slowed down outside a pub parking lot.

"Alan…" she squinted, "Is that your car?"

* * *

"Hey! We're back!" Alexia skidded out from her room and grabbed Tara's shoulders.

"Theodore's coming here in 10 minutes!" Tara blinked.

"Why?"

"He said he wanted to see you! I got Dylan to answer the phone and say I got smashed last night, so it wouldn't be pretty and that you've taken me to the hospital... all part of Proto 1... but he said he didn't care, he wanted to see his 'beautiful bride' as he put it..." Tara felt a flush creep into her cheeks and she looked at Alan.

"I'll take you through to my bed... you should sleep..." Alan nodded, feeling his heart sink.

"Alexia by any chance wouldn't have any of Tom's pyjamas?" Alexia and Tara exchanged glances and laughed.

"Alan... what exactly do you think they were here for to leave their clothes in the first place?"

* * *

10 minutes later, Tara had tucked Alan back into bed - letting him change himself, this time around - and shut Alexia up in her room - just in case.

True to his word, there was a knock at the door and, tiredly, Tara answered it.

"Hey gorgeous!" Theodore kissed Tara and she grinned weakly.

"Hey Theo,"

"You look awful, darling. What's happened?"

"Alexia got wasted last night. I've been up since 3 taking care of her. I got no sleep last night,"

"Poor baby," he wrapped his arms around her, "You should have just let her be sick to teach her not to drink so much,"

* * *

Alan lay awake in Tara's bed, staring at the ceiling of her room.

He heard the door open and watched Tara come in and walk over to her dressing table, picking up her hairbrush and running it through her golden locks and then tying her hair into loose pigtails.

She then walked over to Alan and checked his temperature, Alan closing his eyes quickly, to make her think he was asleep.

She believed it, running her fingers through his hair, before straightening up and heading over to her wardrobe and tugging the doors ajar and opening her drawers, taking out her pyjamas.

Alan rolled over, to give her some privacy whilst she changed, but the shadows the bedside lamp threw gave him enough ideas of what she was doing.

A few minutes later, she slid into the bed next to him and flicked the light off, falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Alan, on the other hand, lay awake for a good hour more, just feeling shocking.

Not only from what he'd done the night before, but also because of what was going to happen in less than a week.

More than anything, he wished now, more than ever, that he could just stop how he felt. That he didn't hear her in every sound, long for her with every ounce of his being.

He wished that it didn't kill him to think of her with Theodore. Thinking of her hissing his name, clutching her bedsheets as he loved her the way Alan could only have dreamed of.

He wished she'd stop haunting him. Stop hurting him.

He wished he could hate her for everything the was putting him through, without a care or a second thought. Only, he knew he could never hate her.

So instead, Alan got to look forward to standing by and watching the love of his life marry some other man.

And he felt powerless to stop it.

* * *

_**A/N**__ Woah... I've only got 2 more chapters to go... Waah! My saga's nearly over! -sniffles-_

_Anyway, that, kiddies, is why you shouldn't get drunk. It didn't happen to me, but I've nursed enough people - including my own brother - from it._

_So there you have it, the 3__rd__ last chapter of Kryptonite..._

_And yes... I'll find some way to tie the title in... not having done it yet..._

_The Faerie_


	48. Let Me Sign

**Chapter 48** – Let Me Sign

* * *

_I was damned by the light coming over, as she_

Spoke with a voice that disrupted the sky.

Tara groaned, smashing her palm sleepily against the radio alarm clock.

She rolled over, finding her bed empty, but a figure at the window, looking out on the street below.

Tara squinted and felt confused.

'_Theo didn't stay here last night... did he?'_ She sat up and rubbed her eyes, the person turning around.

He had his arms crossed over his bare chest and smiled weakly.

"Morning Tari,"

"Morning Alan. Sleep alright?"

He nodded softly, turning back and looking out.

"I called Gordon - he and Virgil are coming to pick me up later..." Tara couldn't help but feel a little hurt.

"Oh. I thought maybe you'd want to hang out for a bit before you left…?"

As tempting as it was, Alan knew he had to decline.

"No," he said, "You've got to do things for your wedding, and I'm sure _Theo_ wil want to see you,"

"Oh," You'd have to be as thick as a Tracy to miss the sting in Tara's voice.

"I'll just go and shower then," the blonde left the room abruptly. Alan turned and watched the empty doorway for a few moments, before sighing, sinking down into the soft mattress of Tara's bed.

She'd be better off without him.

She was getting married. He couldn't do that to her.

* * *

About an hour later, there was a knock at the door and Alexia opened it, a little shocked.

"Hi, Alexia!" Gordon chirped, "We're here for our moronic brother!"

The Asian girl laughed.

"He's just getting ready," Virgil groaned.

"Brilliant. How bad was he?"

"Pretty bad, from what I gathered. Tara was almost nonsensical from lack of sleep,"

"But I'm always nonsensical, so it's surprising they noticed," the blonde in question piped up, coming out to hug the two boys, "Hey guys,"

Gordon hugged her back, before holding her at arms length, a suspicious look on his face.

"Okay, I'll bite. Why are you being so affectionate?" Tara shot him a dark look.

"I'm always affectionate!" she protested. At Virgil's sceptical eyebrow arching, she added, "...and I found a picture of us from when I was 5 on the island,"

Gordon could swear his feet were itchy. Virgil, on the other hand, couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, you mean that time when you…?"

"Ahem..." Tara cleared her throat, raising her eyebrows and Virgil trailed off.

"The time she did what?" Alexia asked and the boys remained tight lipped.

There was a thudding of feet and in the archway, appeared Dylan. Her eyes widened and she gaped.

"_Damn it, Tara Belle_!" Tara jumped and turned around.

"What Dylan?"

"_Stop bringing attractive men into our house!_" Gordon stifled a laugh.

"I take it this is the roommate I didn't get to meet before?"

There was a knock on the door and Dylan groaned.

"_And who is it now, Tara? Is it Felix Wakefield?_" Tara shot her roommate a strange look.

"Dylan, why would the bassist of that band you like be turning up at our flat?"

Dylan opened and closed her mouth a few times, before concluding "Shut up, Tara,"

Grinning slightly, the blonde went to answer the door.

"Hey!" She hugged the guy in the doorway and Virgil caught a glimpse of him.

"Hey... Gordo..." He whispered softly, so only his brother could hear, "Why's Alan outside...?"

Gordon rolled his eyes.

"It's Tara's fiancée, Virgil... not Alan..."

"How do you know?"

"Note the fact Tara just kissed him..."

"But how do we know Alan hasn't told-"

"He told me when he called this morning... Also... note the fact they're..."

"Gordon..." Alexia' voice cut through the hushed conversation between the boys and Gordon turned around.

"Can I talk to you out on the patio?" Gordon cast a glance at Virgil, who shrugged and Gordon followed the girl out.

Alexia closed the glass door and turned to the red head, frowning.

"Look... I know you and your brother's aren't happy with the wedding..."

"What are you on-"

"Shut up and hear me out..." Alexia leaned over the railing on the balcony.

"Ever since Tara told me she was engaged... and that it wasn't your brother, I was sceptical... I mean, think about it... they've known each other forever; they get on well... and they could be so much more than friends... If only they'd admit it..."

Gordon raised an eyebrow.

"That's incredibly observant for someone who's only met us twice..."

"I'm doing a psyche degree... I'm learning to be observant..."

"Right..."

"As I was saying..." Alexia turned around, "They could be good together... Your brother obviously has feelings for her and Tara's feelings are so noticeable I'm surprised her fiancée hasn't picked it up yet..."

"Then there's the fiancée deal..." the two looked at each other and Alexia rolled her eyes.

"She might as well just announce it to the bloody world... I'm stupid," the Asian girl paused, "Oh, I'm also about to marry my "best friend's" clone,"

Gordon breathed a sigh.

"I'm glad it's not just us that noticed that..." Alexia chucked.

"So... Is there anything your family's doing about this?"

"We pushed Alan to say something... I don't think he has, though..."

"I've just been plainly obvious with Tara..." Gordon couldn't help but smirk.

"Do I want to know what you've been saying?" A smile played around the girl's lips.

"Probably not..."

* * *

"Hey Virg..." Alan came out, his hands his pockets and smiled weakly.

"Where's Gordo?"

"Talking to Tara's roommate... I'm not sure whether I should be disturbed or not..."

"... and Tara?"

"Doorway..." Alan looked up and spied Tara talking and laughing with...

Alan closed his eyes and looked away.

"Ready to go?"

"Already?" Alexia' voice reached their ears, the boys turning in time to see her and Gordon come back in and close the glass doors.

"Yeah... we really should get home... I mean... Scott..." Gordon blinked.

"What about Scott?"

"Yeah Al... What about Scott?" Virgil smirked and Alan just shot him a glare.

"Get bent Gordo... Anyway, I've burdened Tara enough..."

"How so?" Theodore came in from the hallway, followed by Tara and she closed the front door.

"Uhh... Theo..." Tara rubbed the back of her neck and Alan sighed.

"I... uhh... just dropped by to see her... was in the neighbourhood and all... so I came... Come on Virg... Gordo..." Alan gave Alexia a smile and Tara threw her arms around him and gave him a huge hug.

"Thanks Alan... Don't do anything stupid..." she whispered softly in his ear and Alan pulled back, forcing a grin.

"Aww... you know me..." she grinned and the brothers left, Virgil and Gordon each saying their quiet goodbyes.

As soon as they'd left, Theodore furrowed his brow.

"Who were those boys, Tara?" she breathed a sigh and turned back to face her fiancée.

"Them? You've met them before... The Tracy boys? We had dinner at their house?" Theodore nodded.

"And the blonde one? Who was the one you hugged?"

"Alan? Theo... I grew up with those boys... they're like family..."

"I don't like you hanging out with him, Tara..." Tara ran her fingers through her hair and heaved a groan.

"Why Theo? Alan's like my best friend... I've known him since the day I was born... he's always looked out for me and looked after me... that's not exactly something I can forget..."

"Tara... I don't want to lose you... I'm just worried... that's all... I love you, you know..." Tara smiled gently.

"You won't lose me, Theo... I love you too..." Dylan and Alexia pulled faces at each other behind Theo's back, whilst the two hugged, Theo kissing Tara's hair.

"I'd better get going... I just wanted to stop in and tell you I love you..." she grinned.

"Thanks, Theo..." He showed himself out and Tara felt a tear trickle down her cheek.

Alexia immediately swooped down on the girl and gave her a hug.

"What's wrong Tara?" Tara sniffed.

"I don't know..."

* * *

After leaving Tara's apartment, there was a fairly silent trip home, for the exception of the time Alan pointed out where his car was and Virgil got out, driving it home.

Finally, it got to a point where Gordon couldn't stand it any longer.

"Alan..."

"She's better off without me, Gordo... think about it... She's marrying rich, he seems to care about her... she's happy with him... and she won't have to put her life in danger for out organisation... she can just settle down and start a family..."

Gordon snorted.

"And you think Tara would like that lifestyle? This is TARA CREIGHTON-WARD we're talking about! Manages to con father into letting her go on every mission, every time she's over on the island..."

"But still..."

"Alan... now you're making excuses..."

Alan heaved a sigh.

"For all the right reasons..."

* * *

"So?" Tin-tin leaned back in her chair, curling her legs up underneath herself.

"He hasn't told her... and she now has a reason to turn him down..." Gordon ran his fingers through his hair, before turning around, a sly smile playing around his lips.

"But... we have a partner in crime..." Tin-tin's eyebrow arched.

"Tara's roommate, Alexia, doesn't like her fiancée... and is determined to help us match make Tara with Alan..." Tin-tin giggled.

"I know Alexia... She's a nice girl..."

"And... Our operative behind enemy lines..."

* * *

The days rolled by quickly, Alexia and Tin-tin plotting and discussing together quietly every chance they got on ways to break the engagement.

Before Tara was well prepared to admit she was ready, it was the night before her wedding.

"My last night in single living..." she sat heavily on the lounge, next to Dylan and blinked.

"This time tomorrow, I'll be Mrs. Tara Kennilworth..." Alexia smiled.

"Not if I have anything to do with it..." Tara looked up.

"What did you say?"

"Not if you don't want to be... I mean, you could keep your last name... and stay as Tara Creighton-Ward..." Tara tucked her legs up and raised an eyebrow.

"That's an... interesting thought, Alexia..." She leaned her head back on the lounge and stared at the ceiling.

Alexia couldn't help but grin.

* * *

"I'm worried about Alan..." Scott openly admitted to Gordon and Tin-tin, pacing around Gordon's room.

"Aren't we all?"

"Scott... there's nothing we can do about it..." Tin-tin leaned her head against Gordon's shoulder and he wrapped an arm around the girl.

The three didn't notice the youngest Tracy walk past the doorway, a half empty bottle of scotch in his hand.

About 10 minutes later, Virgil slid past the door.

"Scott!" He skidded to a halt and leaned inside.

"Alan's taken a bottle of Dad's scotch... he's been in his room with it for 10 minutes..." Scott groaned.

"Come on..." The four trudged into the youngest Tracy's room and Tin-tin knocked lightly.

"Alan?" Gordon pushed the door open and they found the messy haired blonde sitting on his bed, staring out the window.

His bedside lamp gave the room a dull light and his room looked messier than usual.

He made no attempt to recognise their entrance, but to take another swig of the bottle.

Tin-tin sighed and tugged the bottle from his hand.

"Alan..."

"Alan... It's not too late to do something about it... You can still talk to Tara..."

Alan looked up, his eyes full of tears threatening to fall.

"She's getting fucking married tomorrow, Scott... It's too fucking late to do anything about it..."

"So what, you're just going to mope and drink yourself to death?" Gordon tried to keep control of his temper.

"She's happy... Isn't that all that matters?"

"She deserves to know how you feel..."

"You've been through too much together just to let it end like that, Alan..."

One of the tears in his eye cascaded down his cheek.

"She doesn't care... She doesn't need me..." The four left the room, mutually deciding Alan needed some time to think.

As soon as they'd left, Tin-tin shut the door and Gordon swung around, bashing his hand against the white wall.

"How the fuck can she not see it! How the hell can she be so blind?" he hissed, Tin-tin taking hold of his hand and squeezing it.

"Tara's got a lot to deal with... how do you know she hasn't seen it... She's human, Gordon... we all make mistakes... we're all stupid... Maybe Tara just doesn't know what to do..."

"So what, other people can see it, but she can't?" He snarled and Tin-tin cast a glance at the other Tracy brothers, her eyes begging for some help.

"Maybe she just doesn't believe it... It's hard to believe when it's happening to you..." Scott headed over to the huge window and leaned his head against it.

Above them, a full moon shone, illuminating the beautiful island below.

* * *

Tara took a seat out on the patio and gazed up at the clear night sky.

The moon was full and gave her enough light to see around the area.

She sighed, her heart and mind, full of doubt.

"Am I doing the right thing?" She whispered softly to herself, closing her eyes, "Am I willing to forsake all others for Theo?"

Images began forming in her mind. Images of every guy she'd ever loved.

_Josh_...

_Charlie..._

_Al..._

'_No...'_ she shook the last thought from her mind.

He was her friend... her best friend... nothing more...

Theodore was the one she loved...

She hugged her knees to her chest, her mind a muddle.

Two simple words would mean she'd lose the chance to ever love another.

Her thoughts turned back to that one time when she was 17... on Tracy Island in the pouring rain.

She closed her eyes tightly, biting her lip.

She was so lost... so muddled... so... _unsure_

_She said "Walk on over here, to a bit of shade._

_I will wrap you in my arms, and know that you'll be safe."_

_Let me sign._

* * *

_**A/N** Gah... -sniff- -sniff- Poor Tara... Oh and the incident on Tracy Island - memory pointer - after she'd gotten out of hospital... remember when the boys went out on a mission and she and Alan were home alone in the storm?_

_Remember how she got freaked out and Alan comforted her... when Alan KISSED her?_

_He-he... she's remembering the kiss... _

_Anyway, WAAH! ONE CHAPTER LEFT!_

_Kryptonite is NEARLY OVER! -sniffles and runs off sobbing-_

_Wait... that means... I have to devote my escapism elsewhere..._

_Hrm… -begins to plot new story-_

_He-he…_

_Anyway, you all should know what to do by now! -winks-_

_The Faerie_


	49. Modern Love

_**A/N** Well everyone... this is it... -sniffles-_

* * *

**Chapter 49 **– Modern Love

* * *

The next morning, Tara awoke, refreshed, Alexia and Dylan bustling around her sunlit room.

"What the hell are you doing?" She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light.

"Wake up! Wedding day!" Tara giggled and Alexia pulled Tara's blinds open.

"Let's see now... How's the rhyme go again? Umm... Something old..."

"The tiara's the same one my grandmother wore when she married my grandfather," Alexia smiled.

"Something New..."

"The Dress,"

"Something Borrowed..."

"The gloves are my mother's,"

"And something blue..."

"The sapphires in my necklace," Alexia grinned.

"You're all ready, Tars! Wow..." Alexia wiped a fake tear from her eye.

"Our little girl's getting married, Dylan!"

Tara laughed, swinging her legs over the side of her bed.

"Come on. I've made an appointment at the beauty spa for this morning... all the bridesmaids need their hair, nails and makeup done..."

"And we have to be at the church by 2, right?"

Tara nodded, not being able to shake the strange feeling in her stomach.

With a sigh, she turned to Alexia.

"Am I doing the right thing? Marrying Theo?" Alexia bit her lip.

"Do you love him?"

"Yeah..."

"Then yes, unless you love someone else more...?" Tara punched Alexia' arm playfully.

"Come on. Let's get going,"

* * *

"Alright Scott, you'd better head up Thunderbird 5 and bring John back. We go offline until after the wedding..."

Scott nodded and headed off to the round house.

Jeff looked around the table.

"Where's Alan?" Gordon sighed.

"I don't know,"

"Probably still upstairs..."

* * *

Alan had woken up early that morning and just stared at the ceiling of his room, thinking back over everything Gordon had said.

_This is not helping! This is you moping like a little bitch while the woman you love marries another man. Now, you can either keep moping (like a little bitch), whinging about how you never told her how you felt, so she married another – so keep up what you've been doing the last few months, or you can suck it up, grow a pair and tell her you love her. What do you have to lose?_

Maybe it was the alcohol in his body, maybe it was stupidity, or maybe it was just plain blindness, Alan sat up and made himself a silent vow.

"I will tell her how I feel - wedding or not,"

* * *

Tara, Alexia and Dylan arrived at the Beauty spa a little later than expected, finding Tin-tin leading the other bridesmaids - Jenny, Monique and Linda and the flower girls - Tara's former trick-or-treaters, and later young friends - Paige, Annabelle, Arianna, Cordelia and Willow in a little waiting group.

"Sorry we took so long! Dylan drove," Alexia scowled at the blushing girl.

"Sorry!" Tara couldn't help but laugh.

"Come on guys, let's all go in," Tin-tin pushed the glass doors open and held them in place whilst the bridal party went in. Tara gave her a grateful smile and Tin-tin sighed.

"Welcome to the Pierre Antoinette Beauty Spa! Ooh! Miss. Creighton-Ward!" A fairly short man ran out from behind the counter and kissed Tara on both cheeks.

"Mwa! Mwa! Lovely to see you darling! How's your mother?" Tara laughed.

"She's fine, Pierre. She'll be in soon enough," Pierre placed a hand over his heart.

"Your mother is a dear. Now come through, Tara! We'll get you and your bridesmaids all prettied up for your wonderful day!" Tara grinned and held out her arm, the bridal party walking through the spa doors.

"First off, We'll get you nice and relaxed in the soaking room, then we'll head through for a massage, before getting the hair, makeup and nails done... alrighty girls?" Tara nodded and the girls stood in awe.

"Fabulous! Right now, in we go!"

About an hour after the girls came in, Penelope arrived, Parker carrying the gowns.

"Hello Girls! I hope you're all nice and relaxed," She flashed a dazzling smile at the group, who were all sitting in chairs, having nails painted, hair brushed and clipped and lips glazed.

"Penelope!" Pierre waddled up, kissing Penelope's cheeks.

"Wonderful to see you again Pierre! Just hair and makeup for me today," Pierre examined Penelope's nails.

"Gorgeous. Of course, Lady Penelope," Penelope smiled at Tara, who shook her head, a smile playing around her lips.

An hour later, the group all slipped into their gowns, Tara taking a deep breath, before opening her eyes and turning to the mirror.

"Gorgeous, Tara," Penelope squeezed her daughter's shoulders.

"Thanks, mother," Tara gazed into the mirror; her lips a glazed pink, matching the frosted eye shadow Pierre thought matched her skin tone. Her hair was organised into a mass of ringlets, clipped back at the top of her head, letting them hang over her shoulders. Her dress was a brilliant white and almost shimmered as she walked.

She looked perfect...

She just felt incomplete.

* * *

"Alan! You coming?" Scott bashed on his brothers door and Alan groaned.

"No!"

"Al..."

"Just GO Scott!" Scott sighed and walked downstairs.

"He's not coming..."

Jeff nodded in disappointment.

"Tara will be upset," Gordon just shrugged.

"Come on. It's nearly 12:30... even with Brain's super engine, It'll take a while for us to get there..."

Virgil looked around.

"Where is Brains?"

"London... he's helping the tech crew wire and set up for the optimum filming of Tara's wedding..."

* * *

When the Tracy family arrived at the church, Tin-tin greeted them, Gordon kissing her sweetly - much to the groans and distaste of his elder brothers.

"Where's Alan?" Tin-tin finally managed to utter, when Gordon broke off.

"He wouldn't leave his room," Gordon frowned and Tin-tin heaved a sigh.

"Tara doesn't understand what she's doing. She's barely an adult in so many respects, and she's so young. No-one knows what they want when they're twenty," She glanced at a clock in the rear of the church.

"I'd better head to the bridal room. Gordon, why don't you come with me?" with a grumble, Gordon followed his elegantly dressed girlfriend.

"Tara?" Tin-tin knocked lightly and Tara sprung up from her chair blinking rapidly... almost as if she was blinking tea-

Tin-tin shook the thought from her mind and smiled.

"Gordon and the Tracy boys are here..."

"Oh!" Tara's knuckles were going white under her elbow length gloves, the circulation in her hands slowly cutting off from her iron grip.

Tin-tin slipped inside, followed stiffly by Gordon, whose gaze turned to ice as soon as he laid eyes on the blushing bride.

"Alan...?"

"Not here..." Tin-tin shot Gordon a glare, closing the door softly.

"He might be in later..." Gordon's stiff demeanour didn't lift, Tara growing more and more uncomfortable around the boy as more time passed.

"Gordon... Are you alright?" She finally brought herself around to asking, only to get a snappy, angry reply.

"Wouldn't you like to know..."

"Gordo? I'd really like you to be OK..."

"Yeah? Well it's not all about you, is it?" He got up and stormed from the room, leaving Tara in a confused silence.

"Tin-tin?" She whimpered quietly, "What the hell just happened?"

Tin-tin just hung her head in her hands and heaved a groan.

Both of the youngest Tracy boys could be incredibly childish when they wanted to be...

Maybe she should just cut her losses and make a move on Virgil...

Tin-tin couldn't help but have a quiet chuckle to herself on that last thought.

* * *

When 1:30 rolled around, Tara was trying to settle her nerves in her dressing room, pacing around in front of the mirror.

Tin-tin was sitting in there with her, debating with herself whether to ask Tara or not.

"Is Alan here yet?" Tara turned to Tin-tin, who shook her head.

"He didn't R.S.V.P. Tara. And he didn't even leave his room this morning,"

Tara blinked.

"Why?" Tin-tin just sighed.

"Tara! The church is filling! Tin-tin... you might want to come out and start the bridal train..." Penelope opened the door and smiled.

"You look beautiful, Tara," Tara grinned back.

"Thanks mother..."

Penelope held her daughters hands tightly.

"Are you sure about this?"

Tara bit her lip, but nodded.

"Yes, mother. I love him,"

Unconvinced, Penelope squeezed Tara's hand and smiled softly.

"Okay. That's all I need to hear,"

* * *

Theodore was standing at the front of the church, talking with his best man and laughing cheerfully, while the church filled with people, Penelope sneaking in, taking her seat at the front on the Bride's side.

Next to her, sat the Tracy boys, minus Alan and Jeff - Jeff having gone to see Tara, so he could give her away.

The priest took his place behind his alter and a hush fell over the church.

Then, the organ player struck the first note of the wedding march, the flower girls coming out from their floral arch and throwing rose petals out over the aisle.

Tara took a deep breath and Jeff smiled, flipping her veil over her face. She grinned weakly and took her first steps towards the archway.

Jeff linked his arm with Tara's and he assumed his role as "Father of the Bride"

* * *

Alan fixed his tie loosely, waiting in traffic, a good 10 minutes away from the church... that is, 10 minutes the way Alan drives.

The traffic was bumper to bumper and Alan swore, pulling over to the side of the road and locking up his car, deciding to run the rest of the way to the chapel.

* * *

Theodore smiled, laying eyes on the beautiful Tara, who was clutching the arm of Jeff Tracy tightly and her bouquet of white, pink and red roses and white lilies.

They were halfway up the aisle, when she caught sight of Gordon muttering quietly to Virgil and she gave him a look, Gordon glaring back.

She sighed and kept walking.

"Umm… Tara..." Jeff whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "could you possibly loosen your grip on my arm? I'm loosing the circulation in my fingers..." Tara blushed and let her grip on Jeff's arm slip.

At that point, she couldn't help but feel her heart thudding in her chest and her mind turned back to what Alexia had said.

"_Am I doing the right thing? Marrying Theo?" Alexia bit her lip._

"_Do you love him?"_

"_Yeah..."_

"_Then yes... unless you love someone else more..." _

'_But do I love someone else more?'_ She closed her eyes and Jeff stopped walking, Tara opening one eye.

Theo held out his hand and Tara took it, gliding to the front of the church.

The Preacher smiled and started his sermon.

"Dearly Beloved, we are here today to celebrate the union of The Duke, Theodore Charles Kennilworth and Lady Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward..."

Tara smiled weakly.

There was no going back now.

* * *

Alan's heart was beating hard in his chest and his feet thudding on the pavement below.

In the distance, he saw the church.

* * *

"Do you, Duke Theodore Charles Kennilworth take Lady Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold until death do you part?" Theodore grinned.

"I do..." he took the ring from his pageboy and slipped it onto Tara's finger.

"And do you, Lady Tara Belle Amelia Creighton-Ward take Duke Theodore Charles Kennilworth to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold until death do you part?"

Tara bit her lip and turned, looking up at Theodore.

Behind her, she heard the church doors open and spied Jeff hanging his head out of the corner of her eye.

"Tara!" Alexia and Tin-tin exchanged glances, smiling and everyone else in the church looked shocked.

"Alan?"

He walked halfway up the aisle and stopped, looking Tara in the eye and she took her hand away from Theodore and put it on her hip.

"Alan, we're in the middle of my _Wedding_!" Alan waved his hand.

"Tara, I don't care. I have something I need to tell you – something I should have told you years ago."

Gordon caught Tin-tin's eye and they grinned.

"Tara, when I met you again at boarding school when you were 16, I knew there was something different about you. Even though you weren't the little innocent girl I remembered, I liked who you were – what you'd become.

"And I got to watch you mature – watch you turn into a lady from a rebellious teen. Turning into something amazing," He combed his fingers through his hair.

"I guess, what I'm trying so ineloquently to say is that… Tara, you're beautiful. Inside and out. You're beautiful in every single way. Hearing you laugh makes my heart lighter, and your smile can lighten my whole day. When you walk into a room, you make it seem that much better, and when you leave, my day seems that much darker." He took a steadying breath, and continued, his cornflower blue eyes holding on her azure gaze.

"Tara Belle Amelia... I… I love you." His gaze dropped, "Even if you could never feel the same about me,"

Tara had never been more grateful for the veil.

"Alan..." Her voice was strangled and she felt a tear slide down her cheek - she was also grateful for waterproof mascara.

"Tara, please. I know you don't feel the same way. And I wish you and Theodore all the best, but I just had to let you know. I sat by and watched you be with him, playing the best friend as long, and as well as I could. But I just… couldn't. I couldn't stay in the shadows anymore."

The church was silent.

"I'll go now. I'm sorry for disturbing your wedding,"

Alan turned, and exited the church, the doors closing with a gentle bang behind him.

Azure eyes watched him go.

Tara's chest ached, and she raised a hand over her heart.

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. The reason she could never wait to see him. The reason she told him everything, and did whatever he asked. The reason she felt how she did.

The reason she couldn't marry Theodore.

She loved him.

She _loved_ him.

She closed her eyes tightly, turning back to the man standing at the altar.

"Theo..." she murmured, her voice choked, "I... I can't do this,"

"What?" he was incredulous, "You... can't…?"

"I love him, Theo," her voice was barely a whisper, "I think... I think I always have,"

The words didn't sound foreign, as they had with every other man before. This time, it sounded as though the words were made for him.

_I love you._

_Alan, I love you._

Theodore smiled weakly. He seemed to hear it too.

"Go to him. Have your happily ever after," he bowed his head, "I'm sorry it couldn't be with me,"

"Thank you," she took his outstretched hand, placing the ring into it, curling his fingers closed around it. Then, she stripped off the veil and her gloves, handing them to a beaming Alexia.

She cast a glance at her bouquet and tossed it over to Tin-tin.

"I've got a Tracy to catch..." For the first time that day, Gordon beamed and watched Tara hitch up her skirts and run from the chapel.

Theodore looked up and sighed.

"Well folks... I guess the wedding's been cancelled..." Theo walked off through a side door and the Duchess of Royston stood, turning to Penelope.

"Your daughter is horrid!" Penelope smiled lightly.

"No... she follows her heart... and sometimes love makes people do stupid things..."

* * *

Alan shoved his hands in his pockets and walked along Gordon Street, back along the road to his car.

Behind him, he heard someone's heels clicking and then a dainty, manicured hand landed on his shoulder.

Alan turned around, finding the beautiful bride, smiling.

"In the end, I was lying to myself and to everyone else," she said, "Theo wasn't what I wanted. He wasn't the man I loved,"

Alan scarcely dared to dream.

"Alan..." she reached to cup his cheek, while he brushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"I… I meant it..." he whispered hoarsely and Tara grinned.

"So did I..." Their faces crept in, closer and closer, until Tara's glossed pink lips met Alan's coarse red ones in a kiss, a kiss which began as a sweet touching of lips, but soon turned into something more. Tara changed it with a slight parting of her lips and a little flicking of the tongue. Alan's blood began to race and his breathing quickened. Tara closed her eyes, feeling Alan's fingers cup the back of her head and pull her closer to him. She smiled into the kiss and he dropped a hand to the small of her back, trying desperately to hold every inch of her to his taller frame.

A few minutes later, they broke apart, Alan biting Tara's lip lightly.

She grinned widely and slipped her hand down into his, Alan squeezing it.

"See what happens when you listen to your brother?" Gordon remarked snidely, coming around the corner, followed by the other Tracy's, Tin-tin, Penelope, Alexia and Dylan.

Alan blushed.

"Thanks Gordo..." Alexia smirked.

"So I did well putting doubt in her mind?" Gordon laughed and high fived the girl, Tara raising an eyebrow.

"So we were part of an elaborate plot?" Tin-tin grinned.

"Well... We had to do something! You were marrying the wrong man, Tara!"

"And Alan wouldn't stop moping!"

"We did what we had to!"

Tara laughed and Parker brought the car around.

"Back 'ome, M'lady?" Penelope smiled and shook her head.

"Tracy Island, Parker..." she slid in and looked at the group.

"Well?" the 11 people loyal to the bride piled into the extended pink limousine and Jeff closed the door.

"Well Alan... I'm glad you got out of the house..."

The brothers sniggered and then rolled their eyes, as Tara and Alan's lips brushed again.

Penelope cleared her throat and Tara turned, blushing.

"Oh... Shut up," Alexia giggled and high fived Tara.

"There we go! Finally! You've stopped being Little Miss Goodie-Two-shoes!"

Scott's jaw dropped.

"Tara? Little Miss Goodie Two shoes?"

"The girl who broke the school record for detentions, twice over?" Virgil gaped.

"The girl who tarred and feathered me when she was 5?" John furrowed his brow.

"The girl who snuck out of our house and rowed at least 5 hours to shore?" Scott's jaw dropped further.

"The girl who keeps trying to kill me when I call her Ra-ra?" Gordon crossed his arms over his chest.

"I think you're gravely mistaken about Tara, Miss. Liu!" Alexia just glared at Tara, who giggled.

"I never said I was perfect..."

"You never told us about... THAT either!" Dylan pouted.

Tara shrugged.

"You never asked..."

* * *

That night, after Alexia and Dylan left for home and John had gone back up to Thunderbird 5, what was left of the group settled back on Tracy Island, Tara curled up under Alan's arm, Tin-tin leaning against Gordon, who had his arm around her and the others just sitting comfortably and watched the Superman movies.

At one point, Gordon couldn't help but snort.

"It's funny, Alan - It's almost like Tara's your Kryptonite. You know, your one weakness... and Tara, Alan's like yours... funny isn't it?"

"Oh yeah? Give me one example," Tara put a hand on her hip.

"Well... Alan, when Tara got bashed, you went nuts, worrying about her. And whenever something happens to Tara, you seem to take it to heart," Gordon smirked and continued.

"And Tara, when Alan got sick, you stayed with him, freaking out about him. And when we were younger and used to throw Alan into the pool, you always managed to extract revenge on us, for him,"

Tara just grinned, looking up at Alan, their lips brushing yet again and the other Tracy boys groaned.

"Get a room you two!" Tara smirked and took Alan's hand, the two running upstairs to Alan's room and closing the door.

"We didn't mean literally!" Gordon shouted and Alan opened the door, calling back:

"Too late!"

They heard the door close and Gordon grunted loudly.

* * *

Tara took Alan's hand and pulled him onto his bed, Alan wrapping his arms around her figure, grinning.

"I love you, Alan," the words still brought a smile to her lips, and a sense of warmth to her heart. Like she was always meant to say it. Always meant to love him.

Alan smiled softly at the blonde.

"I love you too, Tara," his soft smile played over his lips, "Baby, you're my Kryptonite," Tara chuckled.

"That had better be a good thing,"

Alan kissed the tip of her nose.

"It is,"

* * *

_**A/N** The Epilogue is yet to come, so don't fret! And I finally tied in the title to the story! HAH! Anyway... the original chapter title was based on the song by Busted - **Crashed the Wedding**, but changed to Bowie's **Modern Love**, because I was listening to it so very much as I rewrote the confession section of this chapter. _

_Come on! Like I'd waste so much time building awkwardness and love between the two, only to have Tara marry some pompous pommy OC!_

_Anyway, I hope you liked reading this story and you all know how much I like nice reviews... -hint-hint-_

_Cheers,_

_Flame Faerie_


	50. Epilogue

**Epilogue**_ (a montage after Kryptonite)_

* * *

"Tara Belle, will you _cease and desist_ your infernal pacing? You're making me sea sick!"

"I'm sorry Alexia, but it's my wedding day," the blonde paused a beat, "again,"

"Tara darling," Penelope peered around the corner, "It's time," and the bride-to-be-again swore she stopped breathing.

Dylan was the first to notice that Tara was turning as blue as the sapphire in her necklace.

"Um, Lady P?" she glanced at her friend's mother, "Tara's asphyxiating here,"

Tin-Tin shook her head and closed the distance between herself and the blonde in a matter of steps.

She slapped her across the face and Tara began blinking again, only to glower at her maid of honour.

"What was that for?" Tin-tin shrugged.

"Seemed like you needed it. Come on Tara. Parker's waiting,"

And, with a bouquet of white and pink roses in her gloved hands, she was pushed out the door and onto the arm of the man Tara thought of as a father.

Parker beamed proudly at her.

"Ready to go, Miss. Tara?"

"No," she moaned, "God, I wasn't this nervous last time,"

"Well, we've upped the security at the door," Michelle grinned, "So no-one's going to come barging in, declaring their eternal love for you,"

"And even if they did, Alan would kill them," Virgil drawled and Tara span around.

"Virg!" the middle Tracy grinned and gave her a hug, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, Scott's calming down the nervously pacing Alan, Dad's checking that everything's all fine and dandy in the world, Gordon's bragging to everyone who'll sit still long enough to listen that _he's best man_, and John's reading. So I thought I'd come and check on my favourite almost-little-sister," Tara's eyes widened.

"He's pacing? You don't think... maybe he's having second thoughts, do you?" and her breathing became shallower.

Tin-tin walloped Virgil's arm.

"You git! Just when we get her calmed down!"

"He wants to marry you, Tara. He wants to marry you and then have lots of little Tracys and Creighton-Wards with you. You're going to live to be a thousand years old, rocking on your front porch together and yelling at everyone who passes by to get the hell off your grass," Alexia shook the blonde to emphasise her words, "He is not getting cold feet, he's nervous because he's _getting married to someone he's been in love with forever_,"

"But—"

Penelope tapped Alexia' hand and the bridesmaid released her friend.

"Come on Tara. It's time,"

"But—"

And it certainly was a sight to behold. The only daughter and heir to the Creighton-Ward name, dragged by her butler to the double doors of the church, bridesmaids, flowergirls, pageboys and groomsmen gathered to start the procession.

The organ music started inside the chapel and Tara stopped breathing again.

Fortunately, Parker noticed this time and elbowed her before she passed out.

The procession entered, Tara shifting nervously from foot to foot outside the church. Parker shot her a warm smile.

"You look lovely, Miss. Tara. 'e's not going to be hable to keep 'is 'ands off you," She gave Parker a wry smile.

"God, I hope so,"

And the first few chords of the wedding processional were struck.

Taking a deep breath, Tara stepped forward on Parker's arm, as nervous as all hell.

* * *

"Whenever I think of Tara, I think of the young girl who used to trail after Alan everywhere he went. I think of the girl who tarred and feathered the elder Tracy brothers for repeatedly dunking the youngest in the pool. I think of teenager who snuck out her window to row hours back to shore from Tracy island. I think of the school captain of Thorntree academy.

"But most importantly, I think of the young lady we all see today," Tin-tin looked over the hall, "And I think of how happy she's been with Alan over the years. If anyone is able to keep Tara on her toes, it's Alan.

"And Alan. Whenever I think of Alan, I see the little boy who needed Tara to protect him. I think of the man he grew in to, who used to protect his Tari at every turn and against everything he could. No-one was able to protect Tara better than Alan, and vice versa. The two perfectly compliment one another. And," she turned towards the blushing couple, "no-one is able to love Tara as much as Alan. If anyone were to marry my surrogate little sister, I'm glad it was you, Alan. Cheers to the happy couple,"

Gordon sipped his champagne before standing up to give his address.

"Before I begin, I'd like to show you all a few photos," the colour drained from Alan's face.

_He wouldn't dare_.

The lights dimmed and Gordon clicked a button to begin his slide presentation.

"Here's Alan at age 10, coloured blue because he mixed something in Brains' lab and it exploded all over him," he clicked to the next photograph.

"Here's Tara, age 6, laughing at him,"

* * *

"_GET OUT OF THE WAY, THAT BOUQUET IS MINE!"_ Michelle seemed to get rather violent when competition came around.

Tara couldn't help but laugh as she turned her back to the masses, prepared to throw the small bundle of flowers.

She took a deep breath and tossed it over her shoulder.

Closing her eyes, the blonde slowly turned around to see who was the new owner of her bouquet was.

And Tin-tin stood in the middle of fallen women, beaming as she held the roses above her head like a trophy.

Gordon was hiding behind the wedding gifts somewhere.

"Ready to go, Mrs. Tracy?" simultaneously a voice breathed in her ear and firm body pressed against her back. Tara closed her eyes, shivering and melting to his touch.

"Ready," she whispered back, turning slowly and opening her eyes to fall into the sparkling blue gaze of her new husband. Alan grinned, kissing her gently.

"After you, my kryptonite," Tara frowned.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that," Alan laughed.

"Yes dear,"

* * *

_Two months later_

* * *

Tara stared vacantly at the bright blue stick she held.

"Tara, are you alright in there?" Tin-tin knocked at the bathroom door lightly, "you haven't forgotten how to breathe again, have you?"

Tara slid the door open to look at her surrogate sister.

"I'm pregnant," Tin-tin was silent.

"I'm _pregnant_," Tara couldn't believe the words as they rolled off her tongue.

"I'm going to have a baby," and Tin-tin jumped onto the blonde, engulfing her in a hug.

"Wait until Alan hears this!" she whooped, "He'll be back from Thunderbird 5 in a week," Tara smiled weakly.

"_I'm pregnant_,"

"I heard you the first three times, honey,"

"No, but Tin-tin. I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby,"

"Come on," Tin-tin beamed, dragging the woman downstairs, "We have to tell everyone,"

"Everyone! Tara has big news!" the Tracy family turned towards the blonde expectantly and Tara stared at them all vacantly.

"Tara...?" Tin-tin prompted. Tara glanced at her.

"Tomorrow's Sunday," Virgil blinked.

"I think it's finally happened," he muttered to Gordon, "I think she's finally lost her mind,"

* * *

As soon as Alan disembarked from Thunderbird 3, Tara took him outside to the beach and sat him down, wringing her hands nervously.

"Alan," she started, the man cocking his head to the side.

"Yes love?"

"Alan," she tried again.

"Yes Tara?"

"Alan," Tara really couldn't form the words. It really shouldn't have been that hard to say, right?

_Alan, darling, you know all that unprotected sex we've been having since we got married? Well, seems we did something right, because – hey, guess what? In just over 8 months, we're going to be parents! Isn't that wonderful?_

So she tried again.

"Alan,"

"Tara,"

"Alan,"

"Tara,"

"Alan,"

"Tara, what's wrong?"

"Alan, I'm pregnant," the two stared at each other in silence for a few moments before Alan's face cracked into a wide grin.

"I'm gonna be a daddy?" Tara nodded. Alan kissed her with such vigour Tara's head began to spin.

"We have to tell everyone!"

And once again, Tara was dragged before the family.

"Everyone! Tara's pregnant!" Gordon missed the seat he was about to sit in, Jeff fell out of his, Virgil's fingers collapsed against the ivory keys, Scott choked on his drink, Tin-tin grinned, Grandma beamed, Brains stared, Penelope's jaw fell open and Parker smiled.

And then everyone cheered.

"Uncle Gordon. Just rolls of the tongue, doesn't it?"

"Aunty Tin-Tin sounds better,"

"Good Lord, I'm going to be a _grandmother?_"

"I'm gonna be a great-grandmother. You have nothing to worry about Penelope!"

"I think I win. I'm going to be a grandfather. And have another child with the mental maturity of my other sons running around the island,"

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"Frankly, Scott, I don't want to know what this means,"

"Another T...T...Tracy. Co...Con... Congratulations,"

* * *

_Eight months later_

* * *

"Push, My Lady, Push!"

"_I'm bloody well pushing as hard as I effing well can!"_

"I can see a head,"

"_I'm going to kill you Alan Tracy!"_

"It's coming!"

"_So's my wrath,"_

"Keep breathing Tara,"

"_Yes, thankyou Alan,"_ Alan dabbed at his wife's forehead.

"Deep breaths, Tara," she glowered at him.

A few hours later, Tara collapsed against her pillows, exhausted.

Alan beamed, ever the proud father.

In his arms, he cradled two bundles.

"Twins, love," he cooed, looking down on the pair, "Selena and Sebastian," He placed the bundles in his wife's arms and Tara gazed down on them fondly.

"Selena Penelope Amelia and Sebastian Geoffrey Harrison," she cradled them lovingly.

"Alan?"

"Yes darling?" Alan sat down next to his wife, draping an arm over her shoulders.

"You're not coming anywhere near me for at least 6 months," Alan couldn't help but laugh.

"I love you, Tara,"

"I love you too, Alan. But seriously. Next time, you're having the kids,"

* * *

_And they lived happily ever after._

_And that's it. Kryptonite is over. Officially._

_Wow._

_I want to thank all you guys who've stuck with me from the beginning (Hello? Are you out there?) and listened to my incessant rambling about anything and everything, ranging from school, movies to Latin. Because lets face it, that's what I whine the most about._

_I can't help but be slightly proud I finished this before I started med school. I didn't imagine it was going to turn into this epic saga when I started writing it all those years ago in 2004. The rewrites are still in progress, and when those are done, I'll post up the songlist of chapter titles._

_Thanks for all your support and kindness throughout this story and especially your wonderful reviews which have kept me going._

_I also want to thank my boyfriend, who has inspired me more than I think he knows. I love you, F. Thank you for everything, snugglebunny._

_Guess what guys? We did it!_

_Lots of love,_

_The Flame Faerie_


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